


light up the dark

by argentae



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Notting Hill Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bookstore owner!Isak, Director!Even, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-07 05:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 68,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13427799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentae/pseuds/argentae
Summary: He’s not a big film geek, especially not when it comes to indie movies. Probably the only reason he knows Even Bech Næsheim’s name is because Magnus and Vilde and also like, the rest of the world, will not shut up about him.But, in the privacy of his own bedroom with no one there to see, there’s no reason to deny that Even Bech Næsheim has a really nice face to look at and that the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles in the last picture Magnus sent does something funny to Isak’s stomach for a moment.-or, the notting hill au some of you asked for





	1. one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO it is finally (finally) here, the notting hill au no one asked for but i got obsessed with and then i made julia watch the movie with me twice and then josie told me to just freakin go for it and then it was nanowrimo and i had no other ideas so here we are, over 60k later, with a full and finished story. this is the longest thing i’ve written and also the longest thing i’ve ever put out in the world so like, be a little gentle with it. i’ve given it a lot of beatings over the past three months already. 
> 
> i couldn’t have done this without the support of my wife josie and the encouragement of my favourite pasta stan julia and the entire kardemommefam and even though i only recently joined i also already want to thank the skamfiction discord chat because they’re all really cool and supportive so that’s just really lovely. special thanks to mack for being a wonderful beta and putting up with my terrible placement of commas. 
> 
> disclaimer one: i feel like i should say something about this and i won’t go into too much detail BUT as you will see, the first part of the story adheres, i think, quite closely to the plot of the movie, but the second part will be a little looser. i really tried to tread the line between sticking to the movie and keeping it in character and sometimes those things just didn’t go together so i changed things and you’ll see how that plans out. but maybe that’ll be fun, too, a bit of a surprise and all that. 
> 
> disclaimer two: i am not self employed and idk how stores or finances work so just like… roll with it even if it doesn’t make sense. also this is AU oslo which means that i’ve tried doing research and if i didn’t find things that fit i just made them up :)))) whatever amirite

It’s too early. It’s too early and it’s Monday and there’s an insistent buzzing noise next to his head that Isak is pretty sure isn’t even his alarm because he’s pretty much learned to sleep through that by now. Face pressed into the pillow, he considers if it’s worth it, lying there and feeling annoyed just for the sake of not letting the buzzing win.

The answer, after another 10 seconds of trying to ignore it, is a clear _no_.

The annoyance increases when he opens his eyes halfway and the thing he sees is his phone on the nightstand, buzzing away at irregular intervals because his dumb ass forgot to put it on silent yesterday before he went to bed. To be fair, it was late. Also, he was possibly a little bit drunk which no, definitely not a responsible thing to do for a business owner on a Sunday night but it was Eva’s birthday and they were just supposed to, what? Not get drunk? Big no.

He stares at the bane of his existence for another five seconds before he grabs it to see what the fuck is so important at _7:36 in the fucking morning_.

Let’s just say it doesn’t help when he finds himself staring at 211 messages mostly from Magnus and Vilde in _the groupchat they have with all their friends_ and it’s just the two of them yelling about some new interview that came out with their favourite director. It must’ve been the guy saying he just found a cure for cancer because that’s the _only_ reason Isak can imagine anyone being this excited about anything. 

> what the actual fukc
> 
> 211 messages
> 
> **Vilde:** Morning Isak!!
> 
> fun ducking fact:
> 
> private chats exist
> 
> *fucking
> 
> **Magnus:** BRO i know what you’re gonna say but listen
> 
> it’s SO worth it
> 
> look
> 
> as a gay supporter i need to show you
> 
> you’ll appreciate it i SWEAR
> 
> _[Magnus sent 3 pictures]_  

And look. Isak is probably the last to admit he has too much pride, but he’ll say this: whatever Magnus is sending him is not worth it. Or, that’s what he’s telling himself as he waits for the pictures to load on their shitty flat wifi (he’s told Eskild to call the internet people because fuck if he’s gonna do that himself, but Eskild has apparently been “busy”. Yeah right. Isak is the master of being “busy”).

And then the pictures load and Isak reconsiders his previous statements. He’s not a big film geek, especially not when it comes to indie movies. Probably the only reason he knows Even Bech Næsheim’s name is because Magnus and Vilde and also like, the rest of the world, will not shut up about him.

Also, Isak knows how to appreciate things and he’s really not in the business of denying himself something nice to look at after he’s been woken up at half seven. There’s no reason to deny, in the privacy of his own bedroom with no one there to see, that Even Bech Næsheim has a really nice face to look at and that the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles in the last picture Magnus sent does  something funny to Isak’s stomach for a moment.

Not like he’s gonna tell Magnus that, though.

> do you think
> 
> actually
> 
> that i care about anytihgn except that i’m awake at 7:30
> 
> **Vilde:** Don’t you need to wake up around this time anyway for work?
> 
> nei vilde
> 
> **Jonas:** magnus don’t say “as a gay supporter” except if it’s an orphan black reference
> 
> **Vilde:** Morning Jonas!!

Isak throws his phone down on the bed. It bounces off and falls on the floor. Everything is garbage and people should not be awake in the morning.

That being said, Vilde is right. He should probably get up.

After a shower that was supposed to be quick but ended up being Isak dozing off leaning against the shower wall for another ten minutes, he finds himself in the kitchen where Eskild is waiting with two pieces of toast and a cup of coffee.

“Have I mentioned you’re my favourite roommate?” Isak mutters as he makes a grab for the coffee.

Without looking up from his phone, Eskild steals the coffee away right before Isak’s eyes and motions at the pot.

“I take it back, Linn’s my favourite,” Isak says loudly even though he’s pretty sure Linn has had her room soundproofed and she can’t actually hear him.

“You’re a grown-up now, Isak. You can make your own coffee. And while you’re standing there doing absolutely nothing useful, you can help me,” Eskild says cheerily as he shoves his phone in Isak’s face.

Isak isn’t a fucking prude but it’s still 7:50 and he’s not sure if he’s ready to be confronted with Eskild’s grindr matches so he closes his eyes stubbornly.

“I suddenly can’t see.”

“ _Herregud_ , Isak you can’t say it’s homophobia when they don’t have your favourite chocolate at the store and then _not_ want to help me find a date. You gotta go full in, baby Jesus. Embrace the gay. Do you not love me? Have I not helped and guided you through your sad grumpy years?”

Isak has embraced the gay (really, he’s done _more_ than embrace the gay, Eskild.) And it’s true that Eskild has basically been his saviour, but it’s not like he needs to _admit_ that every day, right? He shows his appreciation often enough. Like, sometimes he washes up after Eskild’s only asked two times, and when Eskild asks him to bring something from the store he remembers. Most of the time.

Fuck.

“Fine,” he grumbles, downing the freshly made cup of coffee and burning his tongue in the process.

Eskild goes on a tangent about a guy that he met in the club recently that he’s pretty sure likes him, but the guy was wearing a shirt that had “GET IT HERE” on it which, “that just doesn’t really shout relationship material at you, does it? I mean, doesn’t mean we can’t still hook up because who am I to deny myself some good stuff, right?”

Isak mostly gets away with humming and nodding and pouring both himself and Eskild another cup of coffee, and when the clock hits 8:05 exactly he knows he can get away with the excuse of showing up to work early.

“Isak, you own the place, it’s not like anyone’s gonna fire you if you’re a little late,” Eskild says as Isak grabs his coat.

“Can’t be late for the customers, Eskild,” Isak shouts as he opens the front door. “I gotta think of the customers!”

He quickly pulls the door closed behind him, but he can still hear Eskild yell, “What customers?” and wow, rude much? Also, true, Isak contemplates as he steps onto the cold streets of Oslo and starts his morning walk to work.

Work is a small non-fiction bookstore with what by most would probably be considered a  disproportionately large section of science books — and by disproportionately large he means there’s one bookcase hidden away in the back in which he has stuffed a couple of travel books and a biography of Steve Jobs that he doesn’t actually remember ordering.

So, over the past couple of months Isak has had to make his peace with the fact that Eskild is kind of right when he suggests that maybe the rest of Oslo is not as enthusiastic about science as Isak himself is. Isak and the rest of Oslo have beef. Or, Isak and the rest of Oslo except his loyal customers which include a middle-aged guy named Arvid that comes in to find something for his geology-studying son whenever christmas/graduation/a birthday is coming up, and Bente, an eleven-year old girl that lives next to the store and never really buys anything but entertains Isak with questions she has about her science projects.

He gets to the shop at 8:25 and has the place lit and ready as the clock hits half nine. Not like there’s going to be anyone until 10 but, just in case.

Isak pulls his phone out of his pocket again. He scrolls through most of the new messages without reading them because they’re largely spongebob reaction pictures from Magnus anyway.

> **Magnus:** AND HE’S BACK IN FLIPPIN OSLO???
> 
> imagine seeing even bech næsheim in the supermarket
> 
> imagine seeing even bech næsheim buying pasta
> 
> imagine seeing even bech næsheim debating what to have for dinner???
> 
> **Jonas:** * did you mean: imagine a normal person doing normal things?
> 
> **Magnus:** jonas
> 
> bro
> 
> don’t call even bech næsheim a normal person he’s a genius
> 
> **Noora:** I mean I like his movies too but I get the point about not idolising people
> 
> why are we still talking about thsi guy?
> 
> **Vilde:** It’s not like anyone is asking you to contribute to the conversation, Isak.
> 
> **Mahdi:** ouch
> 
> **Jonas:** need me to bring over some ice for that burn issy
> 
> stfu
> 
> i thought this gorup chat was for emergnecies
> 
> **Mahdi:** get autocorrect dude this is getting worse by the hour
> 
> autocorrect is for the WEAK
> 
> **Jonas:** we die like men trying to figure out what isak’s saying
> 
> **Vilde:** Are you supposed to be on your phone while you’re at work Isak?
> 
> where’s eva she’s the only one that truly likes me around here
> 
> **Jonas:** lmao did you see eva last night? no way she’s gonna be up before 12
> 
> **Magnus:** ANYWAY even bech næsheim is in Oslo
> 
> **Vilde:** Apparently he’s visiting his family because he’s been doing so much press for the movie, that’s so sweet. He said in the interview that he skypes them at least once a week but obviously he still misses them!
> 
> **Magnus:** i love one (1) man
> 
> **Jonas:** damn bro
> 
> **Mahdi:** rude
> 
> ugh
> 
> **Noora:** Isak, just mute the group chat if you’re annoyed
> 
> **Jonas:** no noora you don’t understand, while that’s indeed what any normal person would do
> 
> **Mahdi:** isak has fomo he can’t do that
> 
> i hate all of you

Isak quickly pockets his phone as the bell above the door rings, but it’s only Julian. You’d think that Isak and his small science book store don’t have the funds to have a second employee and you’d be right, which is exactly what he told Julian when the boy stumbled into the store three months ago. Julian, however, was not deterred by that at all, saying he just wanted experience and he’d gladly come in twice a week to help Isak out with stuff for _free_ . And if that means that twice a week, Julian’ll come in and do inventory for free _and_ he’ll go out and get Isak coffee whenever he wants then who is Isak to say no?

“Hi Isak!” Julian says cheerily. “How was Eva’s birthday last night?”

Isak only remembers mentioning that in passing last week but it’s nice of Julian to remember.

“It was fun, thanks. Did you, uh, did you do anything nice this weekend?” he tries, because that seems the nice thing to ask, even though he lowkey hates chit chat.

The reason Jonas and he became so close so quickly is because 12-year-old Jonas promptly sat down next to Isak during the break on their first day of secondary school and started ranting about some movie he’d seen that weekend. Isak, who’d already kind of resigned himself to sitting alone because he’d never been particularly good at making contact with people (not when it mattered at least), was so taken aback that he thinks he was mostly quiet during that first conversation. He managed a “yeah, fuck capitalism” when Jonas got especially passionate, though, which earned him a slap on the back and a shared cookie, and from that moment on they were friends.  

“Yeah, I told you about my cousin’s birthday right?”

Isak doesn’t remember but nods quickly, and Julian is off, talking about the whole family going to some kind of theme park. He scrolls through his phone a little, absentmindedly.

“Anyway, that was a lot of fun,” Julian finished a couple of minutes later. “Do you have any plans for this week?”

“I— no. Not really, I think,” Isak shrugs. “No, wait, I do, or— not this week, but my friend Mahdi’s restaurant is opening next weekend so he’s doing like a trial run with our group on Friday. We all get to enjoy the food without having to sit through the business when the place turns out to be a huge success. So yeah. That.”

“Cool, cool.” Julian nods, opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then seems to rethink that and closes it again. Isak stares at one of the books on the counter and straightens a pile before Julian continues, “I think I’m gonna go get some coffee, and then I’ll get cracking on that inventory…”

“Yep.”

“You want some too? Coffee, I mean.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Great.”

And with a little jingle of the bell Julian’s out the door again. Isak lets out a breath and considers resting his head on the counter for a while, then decides that that probably isn’t the best way to attract new customers. The best way to attract new customers is advertising, or so Vilde tells him, and she should know.

Not that that helps anything because guess who has no money for advertising? Right, Isak. Maybe he needs to start convincing Julian to stand somewhere on the streets and point people in the direction of the store…

He looks around the store. It still fills him with a strange sense of pride to see it all be real. Ever since he was little he’s loved books a lot. Or, he didn’t like the stuff they read for class for a long time, until he found this book about biology for children at Jonas’ house once (Jonas’ parents had gifted it to him but it didn’t look like it’d ever been read) and spent the entire afternoon reading as Jonas played on his playstation.

He likes learning about the facts of the world. Knowing all these things that were just objectively true and that helped him understand the world gave him something to hold onto when the rest of the world seemed to make no sense at all. He’s loved hiding in them and he’s loved the way they made him feel more settled. He used to hang around the school library until his teachers would call him back to class. Now it’s a little like he has his own library. And _he_ made this place.

The bell rings and Isak looks up to, sadly, not find Julian with his third coffee of the morning, but two customers nonetheless, which, cool.

One of them has his hood up, a denim jacket over it, and immediately turns to one of the showcased books on parallel universes (one of Isak’s personal favourites because in _his_ store only _his_ recommendations get such a special place. New York Times bestseller list who?). Isak kind of wants to talk to the guy because he’s nothing if not an opportunist and he loves talking about parallel universes. Instead, he finds himself following the other guy that just came in with his eyes. He’s kind of middle-aged and also kind of has a huge coat that seems like it could hide five children and Isak’s sure that this guy came in last week and hung around for fifteen minutes before leaving again without buying anything.

The middle-aged guy makes a beeline for the _other_ bookcase at the back of the store and Isak frowns, leaning over the counter a little and stretching his neck so he can keep a better eye on the weird guy when —

“So, is this any good?”

Denim-jacket guy is turned halfway towards him and is holding up a book that is definitely _not_ Isak’s favourite parallel universes book.

“What? No, that’s shit,” he says, then backtracks. “I mean, not — it’s not bad. If you want to buy it that’s cool, I mean if,” Isak swallows as he tries to get the words out of his mouth, “mining geology is your thing then that’s. Yeah.”

“Sounds super interesting, right? You don’t agree?” Denim-jacket guy asks, and he sounds amused in a way that makes Isak unsure if he’s serious, but for the sake of keeping customers happy he’s not going to risk it.

Isak coughs.

“It’s… not my area of expertise?” he tries.

“So what _is_ your area of expertise?” Denim-jacket guy asks as he turns around to finally face Isak, and at that moment the world seems to still for a moment.

Because Isak might not have Even Bech Næsheim’s face as his phone background like _some people_ (Magnus) but _some people_ (Magnus) have changed the icon of their group chat to that particular face enough times that Isak recognises it even if the guy is wearing sunglasses. Inside.

Isak wants to roll his eyes but rolling his eyes at a famous person he doesn’t even know sounds like a stupid, very presumptuous thing to do, even for him. And then Even Bech Næsheim is taking _off_ his sunglasses and Isak is momentarily rendered speechless.

He’s not entirely sure how much time passes but he hopes it’s no longer than two seconds because otherwise that would be very awkward. There’s a moment where he wants to say something incredibly idiotic like “fuck, you’re that famous director guy that my friends keep talking about” but then he thinks the better of it (or maybe it’s Jonas voice in the back of his head saying “he’s just a normal person doing normal things”).

If Even Bech Næsheim is in Isak’s small non-fiction book store, that probably means he doesn’t want to be recognised.

“I mean— Well, that book on parallel universes is really good,” Isak says, smoothly recovering and pointing to the small shrine he’s set up for the book.

“Parallel universes?” Even Bech Næsheim asks, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah, like, the idea that there are an infinite amount of universes out there that reflect all the different choices we could’ve made but didn’t,” Isak says, licking his lips. “So there’s a universe for every alternative reality that didn’t happen here. People think that’s just science fiction but there’s a lot of science fiction that’s just kind of bullshit, you know? But this theory, it’s actually based on a serious interpretation of quantum mechanics. And like, you can apply it to all these thought experiments. Schrödinger’s cat, right? Where as long as you keep the box closed the cat is both alive and dead?”

Even Bech Næsheim nods like he understands what’s going on, an amused little smile playing around his lips, and some small voice in the back of Isak’s voice is telling him that he should maybe, possibly, stop rambling about parallel universes to Oslo’s pride and joy, but his mouth doesn’t seem to agree so he just continues.

“Right, so if we run with the many-worlds interpretation of the universe, both cats still exist, but instead of both existing in the same universe, they exist in separate branches, separate universes,” Isak puts his hands together and them lets them diverge to illustrate which seems unnecessary and, actually, probably is. “But both branches, both universes, are equally real, so the thought experiment still holds up. And — oh _fuck_.”

As he’s explaining all of this, he spots the weird guy with the large coat in the back pocketing one of the Steve Jobs autobiographies. Now, Isak has half a mind of just letting the guy leave the shop with the book because it’s not like he’s getting rid of those stupid turtleneck-wearing bastards anyway. Then he remembers the staggeringly low numbers they’ve been seeing this month and he _knows_ he can’t let this go. He groans.

“One moment,” he tells Even Bech Næsheim.

“Sure.”

Isak walks around the counter to the guy, who has just turned around to make his way out of the store again.

“Hi,” Isak says.

“Hello,” the guy nods, wrapping his arms around himself like that makes it less obvious that he’s hiding a 600 page novel under his coat.

“I’m sorry to inform you that I have eyes.”

“Excuse me?”

“I have eyes. Also, while, as the proud owner of this shop I like to pretend otherwise, it’s not actually that big. As in, there’s no place to hide. As in, I just saw you put that book in your coat.”

“There’s no book in my coat,” the guy says.

“There is,” Isak assures him.

“No, there isn’t.”

And, well, this is getting annoying.

“Okay, how about this? I call the cops and if they also find that you are actually not in the process of stealing one of my books, I sincerely apologise?”

The guy stares at him for a second and for a moment Isak has war flashbacks to that time he was with Jonas and the Yakuza and he was worried he was going to be beaten up.

“So what if I, hypothetically, was hiding a book under my coat?”

“Well, if that were the case, hypothetically speaking you’d either come pay for the book when I return to the desk in a moment, or you would put it back where you found it and kindly leave this store. Cool?”

Isak looks at the guy for a couple of seconds longer until he nods and slowly retreats back to the desk. Even Bech Næsheim is leaning on it, looking way too amused as Isak makes his way back.

“Sorry about that…”

“No, it’s fine. I was gonna steal one myself but now I’ve changed my mind.”

Isak stares at him blankly for a couple of seconds before he realises that that was a joke and he huffs out a laugh while trying desperately not to actually hit himself over the head with one of the books lying around.

“You have to deal with that a lot?”

“People trying to steal Steve Jobs’ biography? No, can’t say that I deal with that a lot.”

Even Bech Næsheim hums. He has not taken his eyes of Isak and Isak isn’t entirely sure how to feel about that. Luckily, he doesn’t have to think on it too long, because at that moment large coat guy joins their little gathering.

“You’re that director guy, right?”

Even’s eyes shoot from Isak to the guy before he coughs and nods. “That’s what they call me sometimes, yeah.”

“Can I get your autograph?”

The guy holds out a kind of sort of crumpled piece of paper and an Ikea pencil.

“Sure,” Even mutters, taking the paper and pencil and leaning on the counter to write.

“That’s gonna get me so rich when I sell it on Ebay,” long-coat-guy tells Isak excitedly.

Even does not flinch, but Isak thinks he can see the his jaw tighten. Not that he’s paying close attention to Even’s jawline (but if he was, he’d definitely notice that it’s a very, very nice jawline).

“What does it say?” the guy asks Even when the latter hands the piece of paper back.

“That’s my autograph and above that it says _you’re kind of a dick_ ,” Even smiles. “Bye.”

“Cool,” the guy breathes out, before he hurries out the store.

Isak waits until the jingles of the bell have quieted down before he says, “He’s still gonna sell it on Ebay, right? Why give him the autograph?”

“It’s a fake autograph.”

“You— You faked your own autograph?”

Even Bech Næsheim nods like that’s the most normal thing in the world and for a moment Isak is a little taken aback, but then he nods stiltedly.

“Anyway, I think I’m gonna get this one,” Even says, pointing at the book on mining geology that he had been looking at earlier. He’s looking at Isak expectedly, those damned eyebrows raised again, like he thinks Isak is some kind of unprofessional business owner that’s going to tell him, _Even Bech Næsheim_ , not to buy the stupid fucking book on mining geology if he could be getting the one on parallel universes.

Damn right he is.

“But why?” he groans.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t?”

“Nope, I didn’t say anything and you didn’t hear anything. What a great choice. Mining geology is truly an interesting subject if you, you know, are interested in dead… stones. And like. The ground. Fascinating stuff.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Even Bech Næsheim replies and Isak doesn’t have to look up from the cash register to know that there’s a grin on his face. “I’m glad you agree.”

Isak hands him the book back. “There you go.”

“ _Takk_ ,” Even Bech Næsheim smiles as he takes the book and puts it in his bag. “Have a good day.”

“You too,” Isak manages and then Even Bech Næsheim is gone, out of his store, lost to the rest of Oslo (or, lost is probably not the right word because before he’s out of the street the poor guy’s been stopped by at least one other person asking for another autograph).

Isak lets his head rest in his hands for a couple of seconds as he contemplates what to do now. On the one hand, he wants to tell Magnus and rub it in because _yes, he is that petty_ but then again. Magnus would go nuts and probably insist on spending the rest of his afternoons after his classes are out trying to track down Even Bech Næsheim and Isak is just not sure he wants anyone to have to go through that.

The bell jingles and Isak looks up so quickly he’s pretty sure he pulls a muscle in his neck, but it’s just Julian returning with two cups of coffee.

“Sorry that took a while, there was this huge line at the coffee shop and then there was this woman that needed help getting off the bus with her baby and a pushcart and I helped… _Anyway_ ,” Julian grins as he puts the coffee in front of Isak. “Did I miss anything?”

Isak downs the coffee, still staring at the door through which Even Bech Næsheim just left before he shakes his head. “Nope, nothing special.”

“I mean, that’s to be expected on a Monday morning, right? I guess I’ll just get started on that inventory then!”

Julian disappears to the back as Isak lets his eyes trail through his little book store, letting out a deep sigh as he peers into the empty coffee cup before getting to work as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! leave me a comment if you feel like it <3 
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr](http://minjard.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/jostvns)!


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And you are absolutely sure you didn’t see him?” Magnus asks Isak as they move a table around. Mahdi directs them to a corner near the window and is remarkably chill about how behind they are considering the restaurant is opening in a couple of days. Eva and Jonas are unwrapping glasses and plates in the back and every time Isak hears the sound of glass against glass he flinches but Mahdi seems to have complete and utter faith in all of them.
> 
> “Mags, I think I would’ve noticed if a famous person walked into my shop. I mean, I have no idea why he would come into my shop in the first place,” Isak says, rolling his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took a week!! i'm sorry, finals and essays and deadlines were happening and they were all standing in the way of me finishing my final read-through for this chapter, but it's here now + my term has ended now so i can start posting more often because i'll have more time! 
> 
> as always, thanks to josie and julia for the support. also a thank you to mack: if any of you are ever thinking to yourself "damn, those commas are all placed so well", that's because of her.

“And you are _absolutely sure_ you didn’t see him?” Magnus asks Isak as they move a table around. Mahdi directs them to a corner near the window and is remarkably chill about how behind they are considering the restaurant is opening in a couple of days. Eva and Jonas are unwrapping glasses and plates in the back and every time Isak hears the sound of glass against glass he flinches but Mahdi seems to have complete and utter faith in all of them.

“Mags, I think I would’ve noticed if a famous person walked into my shop. I mean, I have no idea why he would come into _my_ shop in the first place,” Isak says, rolling his eyes.

“True…” Magnus groans. “Even Bech Næsheim is way too cool to hang around such a nerdy place. It’s just, all those instagram posts were _so_ close to you… I could see the shop in the back of some pictures!”

Isak still isn’t entirely sure if he’s supposed to feel more guilty about not telling Magnus about his encounter with the guy. On the one hand, Mags is one of his best friends but then on the other hand… he feels kind of bad for the guy? He’s probably just trying to live his life, visit his family, act like a normal person, and there’s all these people interrupting his daily routine. God knows Isak would’ve gone crazy and moved to some cabin up north with a husky and no internet connection months ago (okay, maybe no internet connection was a little presumptuous. He needs access to the new season of Narcos).

Also. If Isak were being truly honest with himself, he would maybe admit that he has been cherishing the encounter and going over it in his head and remembering every look Even Bech Næsheim shot him as he so casually leant against Isak’s desk. It’s not like — He’s not making a _big deal_ out of it, or anything. It’s just that seeing the guy in real life didn’t really help Isak’s long-distance crush go away, is the thing.

Not that that’s a problem. It’s not like he’s gonna see the guy ever again. He’ll go off to whatever fancy filming location he’s off to soon again and Isak will be doomed to staring at the super high quality pictures Magnus sends him.

It’s fine. He’ll just keep this memory close to heart for the next couple of days. No one needs to know.

“I mean, what’s so great about the guy?” Isak asks.

“No, guys, a little to the left,” Mahdi yells from the other side of the restaurant as he and Chris drag a big potted plant around.

“How does he sound chill even while yelling at us? I’ve never felt this okay with someone screaming at me.”

“Really?”

“Shut up, Isak. _Anyway_ ,” Magnus says emphatically. “You were asking what makes Even Bech Næsheim so great. I’m assuming you did not, in fact, pay attention during the powerpoint I made?”

Isak stares at him blankly for a couple of seconds.

“Fine, I mean, I’ll have you know I put a lot of effort in that powerpoint presentation. It had references and everything!”

“Magnus—”

“No no, it’s fine, I don’t care.”

“I’m serious, okay? What makes this guy so great except for like. The way his hair seems to defeat gravity.”

“Okay. Okay.” Magnus sits down on the chairs they just put by the table. “Did you see his movie?”

Isak silence is probably telling enough but nonetheless he feels it necessary to add, “I watched the trailer.”

“You should really see it man. I know I talk about it all the time but to see it is such an experience. First of all, it’s just visually stunning, like it’s so clear he put so much effort in every shot. And then there’s the story, which is this really touching coming-of-age story about a girl and her family and it’s not clichéd at all and even if it is it doesn’t feel like it? It feels so real. And then, there’s this subplot where they find out the girl’s best friend has bipolar disorder and I saw the movie with my mum, and— you know she’s bipolar right, my mum?”

Isak nods.

“It was just. Talking to her about it afterwards… She got really emotional over it because she’d never seen it portrayed so genuinely? And it also wasn’t like, a huge deal, or a point of conflict in the movie or between them or something, it was just… a part of the story. And Even, he explained in this interview later that he’s bipolar too and he specifically set out to tell this story in this way because growing up as a mentally ill person he only saw mental illness either vilified or used as some kind of plot device and he wished he could have seen a story told more like this. And it just… it’s so important, you know? That people understand better what it means to be mentally ill and what it doesn’t mean and what it’s like to be a part of a situation like that. So it meant a lot to me and my mum and clearly a lot of other people.”

They’re both quiet for a second.

“The way he talks about it… And I know I don’t actually _know_ the guy and he’s just trying to sell this movie and whatever but it’s a feeling I get when watching him talk about the movie and his intentions with it. It just feels passionate and genuine. It feels like we need more artists like him in the world.”

“Are you guys seriously sitting around doing nothing?” Jonas calls from across the room.

“Doing nothing? Excuse me?” Magnus says, quasi-insulted. “I am out here, laying bare my heart for Isak and you call it _nothing_? Rude.”

“Dude. Get off your ass and help us, we need all hands on deck for the large table.”

“He obviously does _not_ understand the importance of this moment, Isak, but I hope _you_ did.”

Isak is pretty sure Magnus has never studied at him with a more serious look in his eyes so he quickly nods and gets up to help with the large table (he’s wondering if it was really a smart move to wait with the largest table until the last moment when the rest of the room has been packed with smaller tables already but is wise enough not to bring that up now).

But it sticks with him, what Magnus says. As they’re all walking the same direction home later, Isak hangs behind a little. Eva shoulder checks him at some point, raising her eyebrows in a questioning _What’s going on?_ but he just shrugs and she lets it go, simply hooking her arm through his and walking in silence as Jonas tries to explain to Magnus why J.K. Rowling saying that Dumbledore is gay in hindsight is not actually good lgbt+ rep.

Isak doesn’t like dwelling on the past too much because it means he has to think of all the mistakes he made and how they are all going to haunt him forever until he dies, and he’d just much rather repress all of that until he has a midlife crisis. And true, he generally doesn’t watch movies to get a deeper meaning out of them (he realises there are people that would be wondering whether there’s any deeper meaning to be found in Die Hard at all, but Isak is definitely not those people).

He gets what Magnus is saying though. He thinks that maybe, had he understood what was happening with his mum when he was younger, he wouldn’t have lashed out at her the way he did. If he hadn’t had to figure it all out by himself, or if at least he hadn’t felt like it was something he had to figure out all by himself, that would have probably made a difference. For both him and his mum.

“Yo, Isak, you got anything to do tonight?” Magnus pipes up in front of him.

“Uh,” Isak replies eloquently because he’s not sure what Magnus wants so he can’t yet decide whether he needs to think of a family emergency and/or deadline to save him.

“Cool, we’re watching my man’s masterpiece. Everyone is welcome to join. Eskild and Linn won’t mind, right?”

“Uh,” Isak says again.

“Awesome!”

—

They pick up snacks on the way back and Isak makes Magnus pay for all of them. Eva and Jonas and Vilde decide to join too. Isak _wants_ to protest and say it’s getting too busy and Linn is in no way prepared for this, but it doesn’t really help that when they come in and Magnus excitedly tells Eskild what they’re watching, Eskild completely goes along with it and tells them that Linn is fine and she’ll maybe even join.

By the time they are all settled on, around, and beside the couches, bags of popcorn being passed around and cushions being shared, Isak is halfway sure he’s going to get sick of all of them in 15 minutes.

“You downloaded the movie already?” Isak asks as Magnus logs into his iTunes account while Jonas plugs in the laptop to the tv.

“No, Isak, I bought it like a good citizen because I want to support my local director who is out there conquering the world with his amazing movie.”

It takes them another ten minutes to get the movie actually up and running but when the opening credits start everyone quiets down, which is incredibly telling considering the amount of times people get shushed usually.

It’s… Isak’s not sure what he expected. Or he is, and he isn’t sure how actually seeing the movie relates to his expectations. It’s just an experience. It’s nothing like any movie he’s seen before (but that might be saying more about him than about the movie) and he’s not entirely sure he gets everything, but he thinks that maybe, he gets what Magnus was telling him before.

The story feels genuine, with its handheld camera shots and close ups and scenes where there isn’t any music at all, only breathing, or rustling of leaves, or quiet whispers in a dark room. At times, it feels a little bit like he should be looking away, like he is witnessing something that he shouldn’t be allowed to witness because it feels a little too intimate and private, the quiet tears and the quiet smiles.

There’s one particular scene when the main character, Heidi, is lying on the floor next to her best friend Lene’s bed, staring at the ceiling and she just starts talking. About nothing, really, but she’s filling up the space between them with words and memories. Isak remembers doing that with his mum when she felt so far out of reach that just being near her wasn’t enough anymore.

At that point he does look away, finding the rest of his friends glued to the tv, except for Jonas, who meets his eye and smiles a sad smile that suggests he understands what might be going on in Isak’s head right now.

No one speaks while the end credits roll. Then, Eva lets out a slow whistle and everyone seems to be able to breathe again as popcorn bags are scrunched up and Magnus turns to Isak. He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t look smug. He holds Isak’s gaze for a couple of seconds before he crawls over to the laptop again and a minute later they’re staring at Even Bech Næsheim’s face (Eva whistles again).

Everyone’s mostly lowkey paying attention at this point as they scroll through their phones, Eskild’s gotten up to check that Linn has enough tea, and Isak is pretending not to pay as much attention to Even Bech Næsheim’s face as he actually is.

“I just think… I’m really really lucky to be in the situation that I am in. I get to do something that’s always been my dream and it seems like that means something to other people too.  I was really fortunate to grow up in a space that allowed me to be who I am and that always supported me.

“I don’t think famous people have an obligation to be open about their personal lives because their personal lives are theirs but for me personally, I feel like I have an opportunity to be open about the fact that I _am_ bipolar and I _am_ pansexual. And if me being open about those things can help normalise them, that’s great. That’s so important. It’s something I was _so_ missing growing up. And am still missing, by the way.”

“You see?” Magnus says, bumping Isak’s shoulder with his own.

“The only thing I see is your obsessed ass taking every opportunity to spread the word about some filmmaker guy,” Isak replies, but it comes out without heat, with hardly any sarcasm, and Magnus just grins in response.

At that point, the interviewer says something that makes Even Bech Næsheim laugh and Isak is trying very hard to not stare. He is. It’s just not working, like, at all. He feels a tiny smile form around his own lips as he watches Even laugh — that is until he sees Magnus grin at him and quickly schools his face into a more neutral expression.

After he’s gotten them all out of the kollektiv half an hour later, he lies down on his bed starfish-style and stares at the ceiling, willing his head to stop thinking about this stupid guy and his stupid laugh and the dumb fame that’s keeping him out of Isak’s reach. He almost laughs at himself at that because honestly, even if he weren’t famous who is Isak to think that someone whose hair defeats gravity like _that_ would want to go out with _him_.

 _That’s the stuff dreams are made of,_ he contemplates, feeling increasingly sorry for himself.

Well.

Fuck dreams.

—

 The following Monday, everything seems to have gone to shit even more. Isak overslept which meant he didn’t have time to have his first two coffees of the morning, then Eskild yelled at him for not doing his dishes again (which, fair, but Isak just _cannot_ deal with that like a proper adult right now), then Julian called saying he could only come in during the afternoon which means there’s no one to get Isak’s morning coffee _for him_ and now he’s spent the past hour staring at the numbers for the past month and it’s making him want to drown in his own sorrows.

At ten to three, Julian comes in and Isak is immediately up and out the door, telling Julian to mind the store for him as he’s getting a late lunch and letting the door fall close behind him.

The very first thing he does is get a cup of coffee at the local coffee shop. He burns his tongue trying to drink it immediately and forces himself to carefully blow for half a minute as he walks out of the shop and back onto the streets, getting his buzzing phone with his free hand.

> **Vilde:** Mahdi, do we need to bring anything for Friday?
> 
> **Noora:** I think the whole point of Mahdi having his own restaurant is that we don’t have to bring things anymore

He’s just about to write a response when he runs into something solid. Only, he realises when he hears the thing let out a muffled curse, it isn’t something, but someone. And he didn’t just run into the person, he just threw semi-hot coffee over them too.

“ _Fuck_ , shit, I’m so sorry,” Isak says, quickly pocketing his phone and pressing the single napkin he took from the coffee shop against the spreading stain as if dabbing at it is going to make any difference. He finally looks up and — well, yeah, just Isak’s fucking luck right?

“It’s okay,” Even Bech Næsheim tells him, assessing the damage (which is about as bad as a cup of coffee on a white shirt can be) and Isak realises he’s now just pressing at the guy’s chest with the coffee-soaked napkin, so he quickly stops.

He tries extremely hard to take a look at this situation from a professional point of view, and mostly to _not_ look at the way the shirt is now clinging to Even’s chest.

“It’s really not okay,” Isak says, horrified.

Even Bech Næsheim huffs out an amused laugh. “It’s… I mean, I gotta admit, it doesn’t feel great. I know it’s summer and all, but it’s still Oslo and the breeze is making this a not very cool experience. Or actually, a very cool one, I guess.”

“That’s— that’s a really bad joke,” is the only thing Isak manages.

“You wouldn’t happen to be carrying an extra t-shirt with you, would you?”

“I — no. But I live closeby, or like, fifteen minutes walking distance,” Isak suggests hesitantly and then he adds, “This isn’t a weird scheme. I’m not like, a huge fan or something.”

Even is quiet and even though he doesn’t _look_ insulted (actually he still looks rather bemused) Isak quickly backtracks.

“I mean, I’m not _not_ a fan I’m just, you know, not one of those weird groupies that’s trying to lure you into my house so I can interrogate you about your movies and your hair products, you know? That would be my friend Magnus, I mean he’s just… Right, doesn’t matter. Do you want that t-shirt or not?”

Isak realises he might have been sounding a tad aggressive there at the end and that that _might_ just not help convince Even Bech Næsheim he’s not a creepy stalker, but it’s just that he doesn’t seem to be able to _think_.

“Actually, that would be great.”

“Okay. Cool,” Isak breathes out. “This way.”

He throws the empty coffee cup out and gets his phone back out of his pocket.

> something came up, can you hold the fort on your own for a little longer
> 
> **Julian:** Sure thing, Isak!
> 
> When are you going to be back?
> 
> idk, definitely not for 45 min

When he looks back up, Even is on the phone. He meets Isak’s gaze and smiles apologetically, to which Isak just shrugs.

“I’m gonna be running a little late… I ran into someone,” he tells the person on the phone with a grin. “Nope, no one you know. Just— I’ll be a little later but just go ahead order pizzas already and get started on a movie.” He’s quiet for a moment as his eyes shoot to Isak again. “Shut up, it wasn’t desperate. I was just gonna try if I could see — I didn’t fucking fail, I can’t explain right now but I’ll give you the full report later, okay? Okay. Bye.”

Even pockets his phone. “Sorry, movie afternoon slash evening at my friend Mikael’s place. I was kind of late already and they were getting impatient waiting for the snacks.”

“I — sorry,” Isak mutters.

“Oh, no, don’t worry, they’ll survive,” Even replies, and he does sound surprisingly nonchalant about the whole thing.

They walk in silence for a while and it gets increasingly more and more awkward, but Isak doesn’t know what to do or to say — he’s not sure he _should_ say anything, and for now he’s just determined to not get lost on the way back to the kollektiv because he’s worrying too much.

“Good talk,” Even mutters at some point and Isak, like a fucking _idiot_ , huffs out a “yeah” and _nothing else._

Isak is relieved when they finally reach the front door of the kollektiv, but as he turns the key in the lock he crosses both his fingers and his toes that Eskild isn’t home. He lets the door swing open and rushes in before Even, quickly picking up bills and folders that were lying on the floor, pushing aside the coat that’s dropped from its coat hanger. He gets a near heart attack staring at the mess of dirty dishes and tries to throw a towel over them in the hope of Even not seeing.

“It’s. It’s a bit of a mess,” Isak says apologetically, which is like, the understatement of the century, but Even Bech Næsheim is just gonna have to like, deal with it. Or whatever. Isak doesn’t care (he really does).

“No worries, my place is the messiest so I’m in no place to judge.”

They stand there quietly for a second, Even swaying on the balls of his feet as he looks around the apartment, not very subtly looking at his messed up t-shirt until Isak catches on.

“Right, let’s get you out of those clothes,” Isak says, then promptly feels a blush rise to his cheeks as his heart stops beating. The look on Even’s face seems to be a mix of thrill and delight and Isak is definitely _not_ ready for whatever he’s going to say so he quickly adds, “No, I mean _obviously_ that’s not what I was — you should just get out of that shirt not for— just because it’s gross and you’re like gonna catch a cold. I didn’t mean anything, I mean _please_ —” He tries to scoff at the mere suggestion but feels that it comes out like a miserable attempt at saving face.

Even seems to decide to put him out of his misery because he doesn’t make any other remark than asking, “Different t-shirt?”

“Yes. Different t-shirt. I’m gonna go get one.”

Isak disappears into his room and has half a mind of flopping down on the bed face down until the embarrassment has left his body (which probably isn’t happening any time soon) but then he reminds himself that Even Bech Næsheim is still in his apartment. If Magnus only knew…

Right. T-shirt.

He forces himself _not_ to worry about the shirt he picks out and just grabs the first thing he sees, quickly rushing back only to find Even staring at the letters on the fridge that Eskild has arranged to spell out _stay gay_ in rainbow letters.

“I agree,” he says, pointing at the letters, face completely straight, “I mean, if you’re using gay as an umbrella term, me being pan and all. Anyway. T-shirt?”

“Yes,” Isak says as he hands Even the shirt. He’s about to point to the bathroom when Even pulls his coffee-stained shirt over his head and quickly switches it for the shirt Isak just gave him. He seems to be completely unaware of the fact that he’s giving Isak a mini-heart attack.

“Do you have a plastic bag for this maybe?”

“Sure, yeah,” Isak says while actually he has no idea where they keep their plastic bags, so he just starts casually pulling open all the kitchen cabinets.

“Did you grow up in Oslo?”

“Uh, yeah,” Isak says as he tries to pretend he knows what he’s doing, rumbling through a ton of cleaning stuff he swears he’s never seen before. “Went to Nissen and just… stuck around, I guess.”

“Ah, Bakka. Almost transferred to Nissen in my third year, actually. Maybe we’d have met earlier if I had,” Even says, leaning against the wall. “Maybe we did. In a parallel universe.”

At that, Isak looks up from where he’d been crouched down looking in the cabinet under the sink. Even isn’t wearing that grin anymore, there’s something a little softer there now. Like he’s wondering if that little inside joke is getting across the way he wanted it too. Like he’d expected Isak to have forgotten about that conversation already.

“We did. In a parallel universe,” Isak clarifies, a smile pulling at his lips. “I mean, there are an infinite amount of them, so there are going to be a shitton of them where we met at Nissen.”

“A shitton, hm? Is that a scientific measurement?”

“Yep. I hope you’re not doubting what I’m saying, me being a scientist and all.”

“Me? I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good.”

At that point, Isak hears a key in the lock and all the alarm bells go off in his head, but that doesn’t stop Eskild from entering.

“Hei Isak! You know those dirty dishes don’t just go away if you throw a towel over them right?”

At that point Eskild seems to spot Even and looks at him for two full seconds, then gives Isak a look that basically says _I approve this message_ before he holds out his hand to Even, who shakes it happily. “Well hello. You’re wearing my shirt.”

Isak does a double take on the shirt and — shit, Eskild’s right. Isak has stolen the jesus shirt so many times that sometimes he forgets it’s not actually his.

“I’m sorry, _Isak_ accidentally threw coffee over mine.”

It is at that point that Isak realises he hadn’t actually properly introduced himself to Even yet. It’s so fucking dumb but because he knew Even’s name already he’d just never really thought to say? Even’s parents must’ve gone wrong somewhere if Even thinks it’s cool to just walk home with strangers like this.

“Yeah, he’s clumsy like that,” Eskild says, shaking his head at Isak. “I’m Eskild, by the way.”

“Even,” Even says, shaking Eskild’s hand.

“Eskild— Where are our plastic bags?” Isak amends quickly (there’s enough time to have a good talk with Eskild about not embarrassing him in front of international celebrities).

Eskild, who seems to know _very well_ what he’s doing, raises his eyebrows at Isak before walking over to one of the cabinets that Isak is like, 99 percent sure he checked just now, but obviously he didn’t check well enough because Eskild plucks out a bag and hands it to Even without saying anything.

“Thanks,” Even smiles, putting the stained t-shirt in it.

“Isak, have you offered your guest anything to drink yet?” Eskild asks when the silence lasts.

“No.” Isak says. “Do you want anything to drink? We have… Water. And tea? There’s orange juice too, but that’s Linn’s and I already stole hers last week so. I mean, whatever, if you want the orange juice you can take it, she won’t mind.”

“It’s fine,” Even says and by now Isak thinks he might just be enjoying this, watching Isak sweat his way through their conversations. “I should probably get going. Film afternoon and everything. Still gotta get those extra snacks so they’ll let me in.”

“Right.”

“Thanks for the t-shirt, though.”

“You’re welcome,” Eskild chimes in.

“I’ll walk you out,” Isak says, pushing Even towards the door but mostly _away_ from Eskild.

He opens the door to let Even out, but Even lingers in the hall, like he wants to say something else but decides against it in the end.

“Bye. Have fun with your mining geology.”

“I will.”

Isak closes the door and immediately rests his head against the wood, hiding his face in his hands. _Have fun with your mining geology. Idiot._

He’s just gotten himself together and now tries to think of a way to sneak past Eskild into his room when there’s a knock on the door and he jumps. When he turns around and opens the door, it’s Even again.

“Halla.”

“Halla.”

“I was just thinking—”

“Isak!” Eskild yells from the kitchen. “How in the name of all that is holy did you get that handsome boy to come home with you?”

Isak closes his eyes and he may not believe in any higher power, but right now he can’t help but silently ask the fates to have mercy. When he opens them again, Even is shaking with quiet laughter.

“Shut the fuck up Eskild!” Isak yells back.

“Sorry,” Even says. “I was just thinking, I should get your number.”

Isak freezes. “You should?”

“Yeah, so we can keep in touch about when I can return the t-shirt. I’ll wash it as soon as possible and then I’ll just message you after.”

Part of Isak wants to say _don’t wash it_ but that’s probably creepy and something Magnus would say so he keeps his mouth shut on that one, and then another part of him is wondering if exchanging numbers is really necessary, seeing as Even now knows where Isak works _and_ lives. Then again, is Isak really going to deny the most handsome person he’s ever seen his number? _Hell no_.

“Yeah, smart,” he mutters, getting his phone out of his pocket.

When he turns to show Even his number, Even leans into his space and Isak momentarily has trouble breathing. He’s wondering if Even notices that Isak is about to buzz out of his skin from the closeness.

“Cool,” Even says, “I’ll send you a message and then you’ll have my number as well.”

“Cool.”

“Okay, bye again. For real this time.”

“Bye.”

Isak has hardly closed the door behind him when his phone buzzes multiple times.

> **Julian:** Any idea when you’re going to be back yet?
> 
> Not that it’s not going fine! Don’t worry!
> 
> Just wondering…
> 
> yeah, sorry
> 
> i’ll be on my way back in five minutes, see you in 20

He switches to the other message.

> **Unknown:** tell eskild thanks for the t-shirt and for calling me handsome

Isak snorts before he replies.

> yeah, no can do, sorry
> 
> **Unknown:** :(
> 
> he’ll live 

“Eskild, I’m out again!” Isak calls and doesn’t wait for any reply.

The rest of his day is spent staring at his phone and wondering if Even insisting they exchange numbers could have meant Even wanted to keep in touch, but then again he has no new messages coming in the rest of the afternoon or evening. His head is telling him that Even is with his friends and also that he should really not be expecting too much of this, maybe Even had no ulterior motives at all. Then again, his heart is a little disappointed every time his phone buzzes and it’s just his best friend asking him how he’s doing or Noora offering to come over to the kollektiv and cook for everyone.

He flops back onto his bed, tossing his phone haphazardly to the side.

It’s fine.

He wasn’t expecting anything anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! next chapter is going to be like. twice as long as the past two ones (and has some scenes i'm very excited to share with you) so that's something to look forward to. 
> 
> in the meantime, come chat with me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/jostvns) or [tumblr](http)!


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “‘Looking forward to it’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
> 
> “Maybe that he’s looking forward to it?” Eskild suggests.
> 
> “Yeah, right,” Isak scoffs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back at it again with the chapter, definitely longer than the last two so i hope y'all will enjoy!! not gonna lie, i really had a fun time writing these scenes. i know this is a lot of just characters talking and not a lot is capital H Happening yet but it will. promise. 
> 
> there's a couple of lines in there directly lifted from notting hill but only because i couldn't NOT. they were simply too good. 
> 
> many many thanks to my partners in nummi josie and julia, and as always thanks to mack for making sure this is actually legible and not like... gibberish.

It’s Thursday afternoon and Isak has already given up on all hope because he’s dramatic like that. That is, until — 

> **Even:** hey, you think you can come pick up the shirt tomorrow?
> 
> i wanted to come by and bring it to you but i completely forgot about this thing that i have to do
> 
> honestly i’d rather get out of it but i really kind of can’t
> 
> yeah sure, let me know where and when
> 
> **Even:** you know the radisson blu?
> 
> yep
> 
> **Even:** well. there. around 14? i should be mostly done by then
> 
> cool
> 
> **Even:** thanks! see you then isak!
> 
> looking forward to it :)

“‘Looking forward to it’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe that he’s looking forward to it?” Eskild suggests.

“Yeah, right,” Isak scoffs.

“Listen, Isak, if you don’t want my great guru advice then go ask your other friends, maybe?”

Isak stays quiet.

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve managed to get this famous guy’s number and you haven’t told anyone,” Eskild stares at him in disbelief. “Why not?”

“It’s not even like that. I literally spilled coffee over him! And he bought a book about mining geology, so, like, there’s no way anything could ever happen between us.”

“Are you seriously complaining about the fact that he’s apparently an even bigger nerd than you are?”

“ _Faen_ , nevermind.”

“Yeah, baby jesus, go wallow on your own time. And go get my shirt back.”

The thing is, Isak isn’t really sure. He keeps telling himself he hasn’t told any of his friends yet because he doesn’t want to do that to Even, and it’s true that he really doesn’t know what the whole deal is because even if he’s trying to be optimistic about this whole situation it still seems a little hard to believe that someone like Even would be going for someone like him.

It’s always easiest just to pretend he doesn’t want to deal with any more of Magnus’ fawning, and that’s what he keeps telling himself.

 

—

 

So the following afternoon Isak hands Julian the keys to close up with, ensuring him that he’s going to be fine and Isak has complete faith in him and, he adds a little self-deprecatingly, it’s not like there are going to be a lot of people coming in anyway.

As he’s on his way to the Radisson Blu, he gets a message from Even. 

> **Even:** oh i forgot to say
> 
> when you get there, ask for mr montague at the reception
> 
> code name huh?
> 
> it’s the fame, isak, it’s getting to me!!

Isak snorts, then realises this is the first time Even has acknowledged that he’s actually a kind of famous person. Does that mean Isak can joke about it too? Would that be weird? For all that Isak doesn’t like to embarrass himself in front of people, he doesn’t actually give a shit about the fact that Even’s famous.

(Except for the fact that that fame probably means that Even isn’t going to stick around which, admittedly, does make Isak’s stomach churn.)

He halts for a moment before stepping into the huge hotel. When he was little, he used to think you weten only allowed in if you were really, really famous. The ceilings are high and everyone is dressed in fancy clothes (Isak suddenly feels really out of place in his jeans and jumper combination).

“I’m, uh— I’m looking for Mr. Montague?” he asks the receptionist, who is professionally unfazed by the fact that his statement comes out more like a question.

He gets directed to the second floor and on his way to the lift is joined by another, nervous looking guy.

“Which floor?” the guy asks.

“Three.”

“Me too.”

They stand in silence and Isak rehearses what casually funny joke he can make to Even in his head. When he gets out of the lift and turns right, the other guy follows him. When he stops in front of room 21 and tries to pull himself together, the guy does too.

“Are you sure—?” Isak asks.

“Yep,” the guy says, and then knocks.

The door opens and they’re faced with a stressed-looking guy that hands the both of them folders. Isak is momentarily so stunned that he doesn’t say anything, just taking in the room they’re entering. There’s loads of people in suits, all chatting and waiting. Most of them are either carrying notepads or fancy bags. Isak suddenly remembers he spilled jam on his shirt earlier today.

“Hi, I’m Adam,” the guy that opened the door for them says. “Sorry, everything’s running a little late. Famous people, right? Anyway, what did you guys think of the movie?”

Isak is still rendered speechless but realises that he needs to do something now and wracks his brain trying to remember what Magnus so eloquently told him last week.

“It was, uh, visually stunning and…”

He gets saved by the other guy that goes on a tangent about how it was basically the new _Perks of Being a Wallflower_ and Isak for real cannot tell whether that is a compliment or not.

“And where did you say you were from?”

“ _Her og nå_ ,” the guy next to Isak says and that’s when Isak starts _really_ freaking out because what if they kick him out when he says he’s not there for an interview? Who the fuck is going to believe him if he says that no, really, he just needs to go in to see Even Bech Næsheim because the guy has his t-shirt?

“And you?” Adam asks Isak, writing down the other guy’s answer.

Panicking, he looks around until he sees a spread of magazines on a side table and just names the first one he sees.

“ _Kardemomme & Co_,” he answers.

Adam stops writing and looks up, squinting. “The cooking magazine?”

Isak swallows but stands his ground because running out of the room now would look even weirder.

“Yes.”

“Okay…” Adam says slowly, staring at Isak for a second longer before writing down that answer as well. “Well, you guys can take a seat and we’ll call your name when it’s your turn.”

“Wait,” Isak says. “I think he’s expecting me. I’m Isak Valtersen.”

He realises saying his last name won’t do him any good because Even doesn’t _know_ his last name but at least it might make him sound a little more believable.

At that, Adam freezes, a grin slowly appearing on his face. “Isak Valtersen, hm? I’ll go check. Give me a moment.”

“Man, you got connections or something?” the guy that came in with Isak asks. “How’d you fix that?”

Isak is pretty sure _I spilled hot coffee over him_ is not the answer the guy is looking for so he just shrugs and tries to look like he belongs. He’s pretty sure he’s failing, subtly wrapping his jacket around him so the jam stain on his t-shirt won’t be so obvious.

As he sits there waiting, Isak is halfway considering just getting out of here and just buying Eskild a new t-shirt, but at the exact moment he makes to get up, another guy comes up to them.

“Isak Valtersen?”

“That’s me.”

“Nice,” the guy says, nodding approvingly, “come with me. I’m Mikael, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Isak replies, a little bewildered as he follows the guy through a hallway.

“You have no idea how nice it is to finally put a face to a name. Don’t tell Even I said that,” Mikael quickly adds.

Isak is too stumped to reply. They stop in front of another room and Mikael looks him up and down, and he does that nodding again that makes Isak really nervous.

“Yeah, I get it,” Mikael mutters to himself. “Shouldn’t be surprised, of course. He’s so fucking obvious.”

“What?” Isak squeaks.

“Nothing, you go in there and have fun. We can’t give you too long or all those guys out there are gonna complain and that’s just gonna be annoying so. Good luck. If Anders comes in, pretend you’re a serious reporter. He doesn’t like us messing around with the schedule so it’d be great if you like… don’t get us all fired. Thanks!”

 _Have fun?_ Isak thinks as he’s being shoved inside the room and suddenly coming face to face with Even Bech Næsheim, who looks fucking great as ever in his dress shirt, top two button undone so Isak is treated on a nice glimpse of collar bone that he tries very hard not to stare at.

“Halla,” Even says, face lighting up when he sees Isak.

“Halla,” Isak replies.

“I’m so sorry, I thought this whole shebang would be over by now but I should probably have known that these things always take way longer than they should.”

“It’s fine, no problem. I just— I wasn’t really prepared so I—”

At that point the door opens again and an older, grumpy looking guy comes in. He hardly looks up from his clipboard, muttering something to himself and Isak supposes that this must be don’t-mess-around-with-the-schedule-Anders.  

“You’re from _Kardemomme & Co_?”

It takes Isak a second to realise he’s being spoken to and another second to come to the conclusion that saying he was from a fucking cooking magazine may have been the dumbest thing he’s ever done because there’s just _no way_ this guy is going to believe that.

Nevertheless, he marches on bravely.

“Yes.”

When his eyes shoot towards Even, it looks like he’s trying to contain his laughter by biting the inside of his cheek. “You are?”

“Yes,” Isak chokes out again.

Even nods once, huffing out a laugh that he not very subtly manages to make sound like a cough before he leads Isak to the couches for them to sit.

With ever growing dread Isak realises he should probably start his interview now that Anders is still in the room. Even is trying to look serious and not like he’s going to burst out in laughter any moment, but Isak supposes there’s a reason he didn’t become an actor because to be fair, he’s really not doing a great job.

“So… The movie,” Isak starts, wracking his brain for anything intelligent to say, but he comes up empty. He never was good with being put on the spot. “It doesn’t, uh, have a lot of cooking scenes, does it?”

Even is quiet for a moment. “No, it doesn’t really.”

“Any… specific reason why not?”

“Well. I guess I didn’t feel having elaborate cooking scenes was going to really move the story along?”

“Yeah, that’s… that’s true. I guess. I mean, we from _Kardemomme & Co _ are of the opinion that no cooking scene is ever superfluous, but I suppose people can look at that from different perspectives.”

At that moment, Anders’ phone starts buzzing and he leaves the room. Isak slumps forward in his chair, hiding his face in his hands as he mutters “jesus fucking christ” to himself.

“I’m sorry,” Even laughs, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “ _Kardemomme & Co _?”

“Shut up,” Isak says, voice still muffled.

“You told them you work at a cooking magazine? Did Adam laugh in your face?”

“Shut _up_ ,” Isak repeats with passion. “This is so rude, I came _all the way over here_ and you’re just—”

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right, I’m done,” Even interrupts. “How are you?”

Isak finally comes out of hiding to find Even looking at him with that shine in his eyes. He sits up straight, hoping his cheeks don’t look as hot as they feel.

“Fine. I mean, nothing special. No more thieves in the store.”

“Good.”

“And you? Did your friends let you join movie night?”

Even snorts.

“They did. Mikael almost refused, to be fair, said it’s blasphemy to join a movie halfway through, but I convinced him in the end.”

“Mikael? As in—” Isak points at the door.

“Wait, you talked to Mikael? What did he say?”

“Yeah, he was the one that brought me here. He, uh, he said it was nice to finally put a face to the name. And then he told me not to tell you that.”

It’s interesting to see Even be the one that’s blushing now. He’s rolling his eyes, trying to wave it off, but his inability to act is showing again. “Of course he did. He’s so dramatic, like, I _may_ possibly have mentioned you to them because I had to explain why I was late but—”

The door opens again and Anders comes back in so Even’s falls silent.

“So, do you think there are any cooking related films in your future?” Isak panics.

“Well, I suppose I’m going to need to seriously consider it if I want to attract the,” Even coughs, “the _Kardemomme & Co _ readership.”

“I’m sorry, we’re gonna need to wrap this up, there are more people waiting,” Anders says and Isak isn’t entirely sure whether he’s just done with listening to Isak ask Even completely ridiculous questions or whether he doesn’t give a shit and actually wants to move the schedule along. Both options seem equally plausible given his expressionless face.

“Maybe one more question?” Even asks, and if Isak isn’t sure whether he’s imagining the slightly desperate undertone in his voice.

“Fine, one more, but then we’re moving on,” Anders says sternly before leaving the room for the third time.

“So… my shirt?” Isak asks once the door closes.

“Right, yes,” Even gets up to grab the plastic bag from a heap of other stuff. “Here you go. Washed and dried.”

“Thanks.”

Isak knows this is when he’s supposed either say something or leave, but he’s not sure he’s brave enough to do the first one and he’s simply doesn’t want the second thing so he ends up just standing in the room, lingering, playing with the handles of the plastic bag.

When he dares to look up again, he sees that same anticipation in Even’s eyes as he saw when Even was asking for his number on his doorstep. Even seems to be reading his mind.

“I asked for your number because I really wanted to see you again,” he rushes out. “I know I could’ve just shoved the t-shirt through your mailbox or something but, yeah…”

He’s now rubbing his neck nervously, like he’s genuinely not sure if Isak is going to be happy with this or not.

 _Idiot_. Like Isak isn’t going to be happy that the most handsome man on the _planet_ wants to see him again.

“Are you busy tonight?” he manages in the end, though he isn’t sure how he’s making those words come out of his mouth as smoothly as they do.

“No,” Even replies quickly, eyes lighting up at Isak’s question, “I’m completely free.”

“Cool, that’s — _shit_ ,” Isak interrupts himself as he remembers the trial dinner for Mahdi’s restaurant he’s supposed to be attending tonight. “I’m not. Free, that is. My friend’s restaurant is opening this weekend and he’s having a trial run with us, I can’t get out of that…”

They’re both quiet for a moment until Even says, “I mean… I could come with you? As your plus one? If your friend wouldn’t mind, of course.”

“He won’t,” Isak replies. “None of them will. But— I mean, are you sure? You’d want that?”

“You think I’m gonna say no to good food and good company? Of course not.”

And then Even Bech Næsheim winks at him. Or, he tries. It’s more like blinking but, you know, who is Isak to judge. His heart skips a beat anyway.

 

— 

 

> [MAHDI’S OPENING PARTY!!!!!1]
> 
> **Mahdi:** i expect all of you to be there around 7 and if you’re earlier know that i’m putting you to work so do so at your own risk
> 
> also let me know if you’re planning on bringing any last minute plus ones or something
> 
> **Chris:** i’m bringing my good mood
> 
> **Jonas:** i’m bringing eva
> 
> **Eva:** i’m bringing jonas
> 
> do u guys think you’re cute or something
> 
> **Vilde:** I think it’s cute!!
> 
> Isak why are you using u and you in the same sentence?
> 
> let me live my life vilde

Isak worries his lips. This sounds like the moment to tell them, but it would also be like, lowkey really funny if he didn’t tell them. Then again, maybe he should, before they all jump on Even. He returns to the conversation. 

> i’m bringing someone
> 
> **Magnus:** WHO
> 
> **Eva:** WHO
> 
> **Jonas:** WHO
> 
> **Mahdi:** cool thanks for letting me know isak

Isak ignores the messages and instead switches to his private chat with Jonas. 

> **Jonas:** ????
> 
> dude
> 
> why don’t i know about this
> 
> you’ll meet him tonight
> 
> just. be chill
> 
> **Jonas:** in this economy???? the capitalists are taking over isak
> 
> there is absolutely no reason for me to be chill
> 
> but no, good for you man
> 
> i’m excited to meet him
> 
>  

—

 

Isak meets up with Even near the tram stop at 18:45. Even is wearing another dress shirt because Isak told him to dress kind of fancy and he only did _that_ because Mahdi told them all to look nice and definitely not because he enjoys seeing Even in a fitted button-down.

They sit next to each other on the tram and Isak is trying to be calm what with Even being pressed to his side, their knees touching. He knows it’s probably just because the tram is kind of busy and Even has like, really long legs that take up space, but it still sends chills through his body.

The other thing that really isn’t helping to calm his nerves is that his phone keeps buzzing and he’s pretty sure it’s that fucking horrible group chat with all his stupid friends that just can’t keep their mouths shut for a single minute.

When he really can’t ignore it anymore he gets the phone out of his pocket to see what is so important that they really couldn’t all wait 15 minutes so they could just talk to each other.

> [MAHDI’S OPENING PARTY!!!!!1]
> 
> **Magnus:** lOOK AT WHAT MY MAN DID
> 
> _[Magnus sent 3 pictures]_

As soon as he notices the pictures are of Even and they’re him doing some kind of guessing game with two of the actors from the movie, he exists the app and considers throwing his phone out of the window.

“Eh,” Even says quietly.

Isak shuts his eyes and scrunches up his nose.

“Did you… tell your friends I’m coming?”

Isak rubs a hand over his face before braving up and looking at Even before shaking his head.

“I was just. I don’t know, really. I kind of wanted to keep it to myself. Not because I’m embarrassed or something — but I was afraid they were going to make a big deal and I just… I wanted to keep all of this to myself a little longer. It’s bad, I know.”

“It’s not bad, it’s just…” Even shrugs, and suddenly he looks a little uncertain.

“Listen, I’ll be upfront, okay. The only one that you should worry about — or not, not worry about just, be _aware_ of is my friend Magnus. He’s like, a huge fan of yours. Tiny bit creepy but not too much — it comes from a really good place but he can just express himself a little awkwardly sometimes. But your movie means a lot to him and he just thinks you’re a great person.”

Even is quiet for a moment.

“He doesn’t really know me, though? I don’t mean that in a mean way, I get that people construct these good images for the celebrities they like and that’s, I mean that’s a whole different thing that we as a society should probably talk about but still, I get that and obviously it’s nice if people think I’m a good person but—”

At that moment, Isak decides to be brave and carefully takes one of Even’s hands from where it was playing with a loose thread on his jeans. Even falls silent as Isak laces their fingers together.

“You are allowed to back out if you want. I’d completely understand. I should’ve talked to you about this before and I’m sorry I didn’t. But,” he considers for a moment. “I think they’d love to get to know you. Because from what I’ve seen so far you’re a pretty great person. And I’m a scientist so you should definitely take my word for it.”

Even huffs out a small laugh, his eyes transfixed on their linked hands.

“And for all that I like to complain about them, they’re all pretty great people. Don’t tell them I said that,” Isak adds. “But yeah. Whatever you decide is okay.”

They look at each other and despite the busy world around them, Isak feels like they’re alone.

“I want to come. I want to spend time with you,” Even says after a moment.

“Sure?”

“Sure.”

“Okay,” Isak nods. “Do you want me to give them a heads up so they can get their shit together? Wait— we have to get off here.”

“Do we?” Even asks slowly and Isak doesn’t need to look at him to know that there’s an eyebrow wiggle going on on that stupidly handsome face.

“Oh my god, don’t do that, why are you like this—” Isak mutters, face burning as he drags Even out of the tram and into the warm summer night. The weather has ridiculously good the past couple of days so that it’s actually only in the evening that you can truly start to enjoy the warmth instead of just longing for shade the entire time.

“No, it’s fine, it’s gonna be fine. I mean, we’re almost there anyway, it doesn’t really make much sense. Let’s just… go in.”

“It _is_. Gonna be fine, I mean. If they are going to be weird I’m kicking them all out and we’ll have a nice, relaxed dinner with Mahdi, okay?”

“Okay.”

He gives Even’s hand a squeeze and gets a smile in return.

Now that they’re almost there, Isak can feel the nerves set in a little too. It’s been a while since he brought anyone to meet his friends (it’s been a while since he met anyone that he’d even want to introduce to his friends). He’s not sure how they would react to anyone, let alone to Even.

Mahdi will be cool with everything, because Mahdi is arguably the most chill, accepting guy that Isak knows. Jonas and Noora know how to take social cues and will understand that Isak doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this and Eva will too, once she gets over her initial excitement. Chris won’t give a shit and Sana has never in her life seemed fazed by anything so that’s nothing to worry about. He thinks the rest of the girls will keep their eye on Vilde, but then again there’s always the chance Vilde will be rendered speechless by Even’s mere presence so Isak tried not to be too concerned about her.

And then there’s Magnus. There are two ways Isak sees this going down: either Magnus exceeds all expectations and surprises all of them (as he sometimes does) with an air of calmness even when confronted with arguably his biggest idol, or he will go Full Magnus on Even and Isak will need to knock him out.

Well. They’ll just have to see.

They reach the restaurant and through the large glass windows, Isak only sees Mahdi, Jonas and Eva which is probably the best thing he could have hoped for. He exchanges a quick glance with Even.

“You can still back out now,” Isak jokes weakly but Even shakes his head with a small grin.

“Let’s go say hi to your friends.”

They’re still holding hands when Isak pushes open the door and part of Isak wants to freak out about that and then the other part is getting so much comfort from that simple touch that he doesn’t want to let go ever again.

The place looks really good. Isak saw it earlier but now, with the soft lights on and casting a soft glow over the room, all the boxes cleaned up, he has to admit he’s really impressed by how intimate it feels, how put together it looks.

“Look, I wore my fancy shirt for you,” he hears Jonas’ voice drift towards them from where the three of them are standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

“And it looks very good on you, man, so handsome,” is Mahdi’s reply.

“Halla, we’re here,” Isak calls through the room, causing all three of them to look up as he and Even approach. When they stop, all eyes are on them. “It looks great, Mahdi.”

“Thanks, bro,” Mahdi grins.

“And, uh. This is Even.”

The silence lasts an eternity (3 seconds) and then Mahdi puts out his hand to shake Even’s.

“I’m Mahdi, great that you’re here, the more the merrier.”

“Thanks for letting me come,” Even says, shaking Mahdi’s hand. “The place looks amazing.”

In the meantime, Eva is looking at Isak, shaking her head slowly.

“You _asshole_ ,” she says fondly as she pushes his shoulder, making him roll his eyes, but then she turns to Even and shakes his hand, her smile a mixture between delight and wonder. “Eva. It’s really nice to meet you, Even.”

Last is Jonas, who shoots Isak a look that holds something akin to pride as he takes Even’s hand. “I second that. Great to meet you. I gotta say, we’re all very glad to see Isak not isolating himself anymore. I’m Jonas, by the way.”

“I wasn’t isolating myself,” Isak protests, protectively pulling Even a little closer to himself by their linked hands.

“Yeah, okay,” Jonas says, shaking his head and Even huffs out a laugh, making Isak shoulder check him.

“You’re on my side.”

“I’m on your side,” Even nods obediently but Isak sees him exchange looks with Jonas and while outwardly he has to pretend he is offended by that, something calms down in his chest when they move on.

They’ve been chatting for five minutes, all hanging around the kitchen as Mahdi is preparing the appetizers and telling them about how some of the pans still hadn’t been delivered by yesterday and one of his sous-chef was having a complete breakdown over it, when there are knocks on the window to announce the approach of the next guest, and Isak has this feeling of dread in his stomach when he spots the red velvet jacket Magnus has been telling them he’s going to wear for this special occasion.

“Gutta!” Magnus says as he comes in. “And Eva, of course.”

The moment spots Even could have been comical if Isak wasn’t taking this so seriously. Magnus freezes on the spot and Isak quickly goes to stand in front of Even, as if to protect him or hide him from Magnus view which is, quite frankly, ridiculous, what with Even being stupidly tall.  

“Magnus,” he says warningly holding a hand out. In the corner of his eye he can see Jonas approach and Eva holding a hand over her mouth (though he isn’t sure if she’s hiding laughter or worry).

“ _Fy faen_ ,” Magnus mutters under his breath. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of Even for a second. Isak is wondering if he’s seen him blink at all since he came in. “This is one of those key moments in life, when you have the possibility to be totally cool and I’m just going to fail a hundred percent.”

Isak turns to Even, unable to stop from groaning in embarrassment. When he exchanges a quick look with Eva he realises she herself isn’t even sure whether she’s laughing or just horrified at the train wreck happening in front of her.

Magnus isn’t finished yet. “I think you’re the coolest and most beautiful man in the world, your movie is the best movie in all of history and more importantly I genuinely believe and have believed for some time now that we can be best friends.”

Isak is now hiding his face against Even’s shoulder, muttering, “You’re allowed to like, run away screaming.”

He can feel Even taking a deep breath, but when he dares to peek up, Even doesn’t look like he’s about to make a run for the door. Instead, he smiles, carefully, a little abashed.

“I mean… I’ll have to confer with my other best friends but I’m pretty sure we can figure something out,” he says. Magnus looks like he’s about to faint as Even takes a step towards him, hand stretched out. “Let’s start at the beginning. Magnus, right?”

Instead of taking Even’s hand, Magnus goes in for a hug. Since Even moved away from him three seconds ago, Isak has dragged himself towards Eva and is now half hiding his face against _her_ shoulder and half peeking across the room, wondering how rude it would be if he’d grab Even’s hand and just drag him out of there. Eva pats him on the shoulder concertedly.

Though Even seems momentarily deterred by the change of plans, he’s quick to adjust, clapping Magnus on the back.

“Isak, what the actual fuck?” Magnus asks once he’s let Even go again and Isak has come over to collect his date. “You couldn’t have given me a heads up? I could’ve fainted, man. Not cool.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Isak replies, choosing to ignore how that was indeed one of the possibilities he had in mind earlier. He’s saved from any more interrogation on Magnus’ side (for now) when the door opens again and Sana, Chris, Vilde, and Noora come in.

Once again, there’s an eerie silence as they spot Even, but right when Isak takes a deep breath and starts, “Guys, this is—” he’s cut off by Sana.

“Hei, Even,” she says, coming up to him and kissing him on the cheek. “You haven’t been around much, mum keeps asking about you. It’s driving Elias nuts because he keeps complaining about how little he gets to see you these days too.”

“Sana,” Even says, warmth in his voice, “please tell her I miss her too and I’ll definitely try to come around sometime soon. With all the travelling it’s just been… well, busy. But being back for a bit with everyone here has been nice.”

The silence after that is, possibly, even worse, until Sana frowns at the rest of the girls and then at Isak. “Since apparently no one else is able to introduce you, these are Vilde, Noora, and Chris. We all went to Nissen together.”

The three girls quickly step forward to shake hands. Vilde is hardly able to get a “nice to meet you” over her lips, Chris claps Even on the shoulder saying “good movie, dude” before she moves on to the kitchen to see how Mahdi is doing, and Noora has quickly collected herself and is now making small talk about a new, cute homeware store that just opened near her place.

After all introductions have been made and hands have been shaken, everyone scatters, helping set up the table, chatting away or looking as Mahdi masterfully fabricates their appetizers. It allows Isak and Even a moment of quiet, which Isak is grateful for.

“So, those… those are my friends,” he says, leaning against a pillar, looking down and becoming endlessly fascinated by their intertwined hands.

“They’re nice,” Even says, pressing their palms together.

“They’re hopeless.”

“You’re nice.”

“Stop that.”

“What?”

“Just. That. Stop looking at me.”

“I like looking at you. Are you blushing?”

“ _No_!”

He is. He’s blushing so hard and it’s not attractive and it’s embarrassing because blushing is for young Isak, for years-ago Isak, for still-had-a-dumb-crush-on-Jonas Isak, not for adult Isak. It makes him feel off center, this whole situation.

Then again, it’s not a totally bad feeling.

He doesn’t hate it, like he hated that one time some guy at Chris’ party showed very clear interest in him and he made Jonas pretend he’d broken his ankle just so they could get out of there early.

This doesn’t feel like that. Something about Even’s interest is different, and he can’t exactly put his finger on it. It’s just different. Good different.

“Hey lovebirds,” Jonas calls and Isak is annoyed at himself for how quickly he responds to that nickname. “Maybe grace the rest of us with your presence for dinner?”

Dinner turns out to be strangely fun and definitely a lot less awkward than all Isak’s doom scenarios had made it out to be. After the initial surprise, everyone seems to quickly have gotten over the fact that Even Bech Næsheim is having dinner with them.

At first, Isak is extremely grateful for the person that directed Magnus to the seat the furthest away from Even, but halfway through the main course he’s come to realise that Magnus will not let himself be deterred by something as insignificant as _distance_. By the time the main course ends, Noora has switched with Magnus so the rest of them actually have the opportunity to hold a normal conversation without Magnus yelling over them all the time to ask Even’s opinion on the salad Mahdi just put in front of them.

The food is amazing, though takes no one by surprise. Mahdi basks in their endless stream of compliments anyway, completely in his element as he tells them in detail where all the ingredients came from and how much effort he’s put in getting it all _just_ the way he wanted it.

At some point while they’re waiting for the dessert, Magnus launches into a story about a big glitter fight that broke out between two five-year-olds in his class, the whole thing ending with 19 children plus Magnus himself all glittered over and cleaning up the mess while playing _A Spoonful of Sugar_ from Mary Poppins on full volume. Most of them didn’t get it at first, and after he showed them the movie scene all the kids spent fifteen minutes learning how to snap their fingers and then standing next to the mess trying to get it to clean itself up, but they got it done in the end.

After dessert (homemade rhubarb ice cream) Mahdi serves tea and coffee and then he disappears into the kitchen for five minutes, not allowing anyone else to come with him. When he comes out again, it’s with a plate of brownies, half of them have small flags in them and a sparkler in their midst.

“Because we’re celebrating, after all,” Mahdi says, “gotta give you guys what I know you all came here for.”

There’s happy exclamations all around and Eva leans over to Even to explain that Mahdi always used to make them all brownies on special occasions while they were still at Nissen.

“It’s kind of how this whole thing started.”

As Vilde grabs one of the brownies with a little flag in them, Mahdi grabs her wrist.

“Wait. I mean, feel free to take one but the ones with a flag in them have been,” he coughs suggestively, “enhanced.”

Vilde frowns as she lowers the brownie back onto the plate but then the penny drops for Jonas and he laughs, “Mahdi. A true modern day hero. Making our grown asses space brownies because he remembers a promise he once made, probably while high, that if he one day opened his own restaurant and we all stuck around until then, he’d make them for us. Love you, man.”

“Oh my god,” Eva rolls her eyes. “I hope you didn’t make those in the kitchen here.”

“Do I look like someone who’s looking to lose his restaurant before it’s even seen opening weekend? Of course not, I made them at home before I left. The other ones are just regular brownies, by the way, made in a different tray and everything, so those are completely safe.”

Isak, Jonas, Magnus, and Mahdi all take one space brownie each as the rest digs into the pile of regular brownies.

“They’re pretty mild, I need all of you to get home safely and there’s no way I’m dragging your asses back to your respective homes so,” Mahdi says as he takes a bite from one of his brownies.

Half an hour later they’re all sitting back and Isak can’t believe this whole evening turned out to be actually fun and not an act in trying to keep himself together while also protecting Even from his friends.

“Okay, okay, okay, there’s one brownie left,” Mahdi says then pointing at the last regular brownie, “And since all of you are a bunch of sad cases anyway I’m going to award it to the saddest of all. Plead your case.”

“Me first,” Eva holds up her hand. “I work in the ugliest office building trying to do some good in this world, but in all honesty I’m terrible at lobbying and everyone there knows it so they _all_ hate me and now they hate me _even more_ because fucking Daniel found out I’m looking for a job I actually enjoy, god forbid, so I sit alone during lunch every single day and have to swallow my pride and call one of you so I won’t just spend half an hour eating a boring cheese sandwich on my own.”

Mahdi nods, taking this all in.

“Okay, nice,” Jonas says, “but you’re actually making a decent wage. Magnus here, on the other hand, gets to take care of 20 mini-people that aren’t actually able to listen to instructions yet no matter what he tries to tell us _and_ he makes just about the bare minimum for teaching our future generation to the best of his abilities like the brave man he is.”

“That’s true,” Magnus nods, “also I haven’t had a date in ages and looking at how much time I spend with those kids it’s not looking like I’ll have time for that any time soon, which is just an absolute tragedy in and of itself, right?”

“Truly,” Jonas agrees solemnly.

“But at least your best friend is Even Bech Næsheim,” Chris points out, which makes everything burst out laughing, including Even, who indulges Magnus in a high five.

“Okay, but I’d like to make a case on Isak’s behalf,” Eva says and Isak doesn’t like the mischievous look on her face at all.

“I’m not sad—” he tries to protest, which immediately launches a bunch of _boo_ s from the rest of the group, telling him to be quiet and let Eva say what she wants to say. Isak raises his hands in mock defense then motions for her to go ahead, though he mutters another, “I’m _not_ sad” to Even, who nods seriously but then turns to Eva to give her his undivided attention.

“First of all, he’s trying to run a niche business for the nerdiest people in Oslo and it’s not working out that well because it turns out that there aren’t _that_ many people that want to buy science book from an independent bookstore. Kind of handsome but, arguably, too tall or not tall enough.”

“What do you even _mean_ by that?”

“Look, if you’re gonna go tall, you gotta go all out like Even. You can’t half-ass this sort of shit Isak. Now you’re just annoyingly taller than most of us,” Eva says with a shrug, quickly finishing her third glass of wine of the evening and still interrupting Isak before he can argue with her. “On top of that! On top of that he, too, hasn’t been on a date in ages, possibly because of the weird height, that is, until this beautiful man came along,” she gestures at Even, “but it’s not like that’s going to last once we show him old videos of Isak’s rapping skills. So. It’s all very sad and very tragic and therefore Isak deserves the last brownie. I rest my case.”

“Rapping skills?” Even asks, turning to Isak again.

“Eva, I’m warning you—” Isak replies.

But she already has her phone out and leans over the table to show Even.

“Look at him, tiny first year Isak. So cute. So innocent.”

“So in the closet,” he reminds her as Even smiles at the sight of 15-year- old Isak’s attempt at rap.

“And look at you now! All grown up!” She holds a hand to her chest in pride.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “This must warrant me getting the brownie, right? Please?”

“Wait, do I not get to try?”

Everyone falls quiet, turning to Even at the same time.

“You want the brownie?” Mahdi asks after a beat.

“Well, I’d like a shot at it, at least. They were very good brownies.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere,” Isak warns.

“I will be the one deciding that Isak, thank you very much,” Mahdi says. “Even, continue.”

“All right, well, first of all. I’m openly pansexual and bipolar in a world where very few people actually understand what either of those things really mean, which in turn means I’m getting told from all sides that I’m an attention seeker and probably just faking the whole thing so my work gets promoted more.

“I have an ex-girlfriend that won’t let me _forget_ that my mental illness is very real, like I don’t know that myself, and she still takes it upon herself to message me warnings every time she gets wind of me going to a party. And I mean, I would’ve loved one of those space brownies but of course I can’t take one because as a responsible adult I know they mess with my medications and I feel like I constantly have to prove to all the people around me that I _am_ an adult that can make my own decisions, because, like mentioned previously, loads of them don’t actually get that being mentally ill doesn’t make me a child that needs taking care of.”

It’s quiet as everyone looks at Even, who meets their eyes a little sheepishly.

“Sorry, uh, I… that sounded really bitter, hm?” he huffs humourlessly.

Isak isn’t sure what to do. He’s not sure what Even wants, if he should be taking this seriously right now or if Even would rather have him wave it off and talk about it later. It hits him right then and there that for all that he’s spent time thinking about Even, they’ve only really seen each other three times, always in lowkey awkward situations (though that might just be Isak) and none of those times did they really have time to get to know each other. And Isak knows that that’s kind of what dates are for but also, a dinner with all his friends is probably not the best place for a first date either.

Luckily, his friends don’t think stuff through (or get endlessly stuck in their own head) like Isak does.

“Okay, nice try dude,” Mahdi says with a shake of his head, and suddenly the tension is gone and everyone is laughing, including Even, as Mahdi hands the brownie to Isak, who isn’t sure whether to be happy or insulted (he goes for happy because Even was right, Mahdi’s brownies are basically a godsend).

As the rest of the group resume their chatter, Isak cuts his brownie in half and puts one half on Even’s plate. The smile Even gives him is absolutely, one hundred percent worth the sacrifice. That is, until Magnus spots them and says, “Hey, are you sharing with the rest of us sad cases?”

“No!”

“But you’re sharing with Even?”

“Uh, yes?”

“That’s not fair!”

“I don’t care,” Isak shrugs.

“Harsh, man…”

“Here, Magnus,” Even cuts his half of the brownie in half again and hands one part over to Magnus, who fist pumps as he takes the piece of brownie. “That’s what best friends are for, right?”

Eva puts her head on Isak’s shoulder and looks up at him through her eyelashes. “If you’re sharing brownie anyway, maybe give your fellow sad case a bit of yours too?”

“No! Stop trying to take away my brownie. It’s _my_ brownie,” Isak protests.

“But I’m your best friend! Didn’t you hear what Even just said?”

Isak glares at Even, who shrugs as he puts his last bite of brownie is his mouth and licks off his fingers. Then, he sighs and drops his head for a moment before cutting off another piece of his brownie for Eva. She wraps her arms around him and kisses his cheek in gratitude. Isak quickly eats the bit of brownie he has left before anyone can take that away from him too.

When they leave that evening, Isak feels elated. His stomach is filled with splendid food, he feels light from all the talking and laughter (and probably a little bit from the weed, too), intoxicated on happiness. Even grabs his hand again, lacing their fingers together, and it makes Isak’s skin tingle, a pleasant fire burning just under the surface.

The moment they’re out the door and out of everyone’s direct sight, there’s a series of exuberant yells and laughs and Isak quickly drags Even out of the street, muttering “you didn’t hear anything” to Even once they turn the corner.

Neither of them is wearing their coat because the temperature is still so warm. Twilight is really setting in, the city calming down a little from another long day. August evenings in Oslo have never looked this nice before, in Isak’s personal opinion at least. Maybe that’s just because every time he looks to his right, Even is there, looking back.

“Good night?” Even asks him at some point as they're walking to the tram stop and Isak has half a mind of making a sarcastic remark but in the end he just nods.

“Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading <3
> 
> feel free to come talk to me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/jostvns) or [tumblr](http://minjard.tumblr.com)!


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spending time with Even is just… it’s something else. Maybe Isak is just not used to hanging out with people outside of his close friend group anymore. To be completely fair, he hasn’t felt inclined to add any new people to that circle at any point during the past couple of years. He’s very content with the people he has, and he’s simply not very fond of social interaction with people he doesn’t know in general (which should make the fact that he enjoys working in his little book shop kind of ironic, but Isak would argue that that is clearly different).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo, there we go again. quickly wanted to mention that while this is the longest update yet, don't get used to it - turns out that when you've just been writing 65k in one go and try to divide it up into chapters later, you're gonna run into some trouble. anyway, long story short, i rearranged some chapters which also meant combining two, hence this extra long one. the rest of them will be more likely be around... 4k? 
> 
> i know some stuff happens in this chapter that may not hold up to logic or like, real Oslo, but i hope that's something the rest of the chapter will help you see past that. it's time for things to start Happening. 
> 
> thanks to julosie (josia?) my favourite j's after the jonas brothers in camp rock and as always thanks to mack for betaing. also a quick but wholehearted thank you to everyone leaving such lovely comments, they really warm my heart. 
> 
> cw for homophobic language, ableist language and descriptions of a panic panic attack (if you want any more detail on any of this feel free to ask)

Spending time with Even is just… it’s something else. Maybe Isak is just not used to hanging out with people outside of his close friend group anymore. To be completely fair, he hasn’t felt inclined to add any new people to that circle at any point during the past couple of years. He’s very content with the people he has, and he’s simply not very fond of social interaction with people he doesn’t know in general (which should make the fact that he enjoys working in his little book shop kind of ironic, but Isak would argue that that is clearly _different_ ).

But spending time with Even is strangely comfortable. He usually hates the part of building a relationship with someone where you don’t really know each other yet and there’s the risk of things getting awkward with basically every sentence you say, but for some reason that’s not the case with Even.

Instead, he’s just curious.

He’s curious about Even and his life and his favourite flavour of ice cream and even the silences in their conversations aren’t as nerve wracking as he’s used to.

Over the next couple of days, Even texts him regularly, so even when they’re not hanging out they’re keeping in touch, sending each other memes like stupid teenagers. At night, when Isak can’t sleep, he sometimes reads through their conversations or looks up Even’s instagram.

It’s the only form of social media Even has that Isak has been able to find, and he momentarily considers shooting Even a message about how that’s just really pretentious but he decides against it and ends up just scrolling through the feed, which is a combination of pictures of aesthetically pleasing buildings, black and white pictures of Even on set seeming extremely concentrated (which possibly enhances his already great looks even more), and pictures of dogs Even sees on the street and thinks are cute.

When one afternoon, Even texts him _up to anything tonight_ Isak only has to take one look at the pizza order he was on the verge of putting in before quickly closing his laptop and typing out a _nope_ before hurrying to his closet to find a shirt that doesn’t look like he hasn’t done laundry in too long. It’s not that he’s bad at laundry, he’s just bad at remembering to do laundry, and then he _is_ bad at folding laundry so he just shoves everything in a drawer once it’s dry which might by why literally all of his shirts look rumpled.

 

 

> **Even:** I’m outside
> 
> don’t ring the doorbell
> 
> **Even:** why???
> 
> just don’t d oit
> 
> *do it

Isak types out the warning quickly before throwing his phone on the bed and settling on his least-crumpled shirt.

Eskild is home and Isak really does not want to risk having Even exposed to someone who knows way too many embarrassing stories about him for Isak’s liking. Luckily, the house stays silent so he only calls out an, “I’m going out!” to Eskild before quickly shutting the door behind him.

“We’re seeing a movie,” Even declares when he meets Isak outside of the kollektiv.

“You better have him home by twelve, Bech Næsheim!” Eskild calls out of the window.

“Shut up, Eskild!” Isak calls back at the same moment Even says, “I’ll try!”

Isak does his very best to ignore the gleeful look on Even’s face. “What movie?”

It turns out they’re seeing the new Blade Runner movie which, as Isak finds out five minutes into the movie, is actually not about the Paralympic champion and murderer as he had previously expected, but about something sci-fi related instead.

Even gives him a Look when he mentions he hasn’t seen the original but tells him it’s fine, he’ll understand, it’s just Ryan Gosling and Harrison Ford running around and the original movie is genius, Isak, but we’ll get to that later.

And Isak tries to get into it, he really really does. Under other circumstances, he might have. But the fact that Even keeps leaning over and whispering little known facts about the movie and its predecessor, yeah, that just really doesn’t fucking help him to concentrate (additionally, the moments Even’s knee presses against his and the touch seems to burn through his jeans are really distracting as well, okay?) so in the end he just settles for watching Ryan Gosling jump through a multitude of hoops without really understanding why.

When he asks Even what _he_ thought of the movie once they face the daylight again a couple of hours later, Even sighs heavily. “It just sucks when someone you admire creates a visually stunning masterpiece that is just also a sexist piece of garbage, you know?”

Isak just nods along as Even goes on about how it really shouldn’t be this difficult to have movies pass the Bechdel test these days, and while he realises Even is right, of course, and what he’s talking about is actually really interesting and socially aware, Isak is getting stupidly distracted by the lock of hair falling in Even’s face.

At some point, it gets so annoying he just reaches out in the middle of one of Even’s sentences and tucks it back. Once he realises what he just did he flushes and quickly averts his gaze.

“You were talking about the reversal of the male gaze in contemporary movies,” he prompts when he feels Even’s eyes still on him, and when he dares to look up again, he’s faced with this soft look in Even’s eyes that he’s just not really sure what do with.

They end up sitting down at some kind of greasy looking pizza place but Isak’s stomach keeps rumbling so he’s about ready to settle for anything right now. There’s a group of college guys yelling at each other from another table and Isak is wondering if he and the boys were ever this obnoxious in public.

“So all of your friends are from Nissen?” Even asks.

Isak nods. “Yeah. Or— I knew Jonas before that, we went to Grefsen together. Valtersen and Vasquez are right next to each other in the alphabet so we always got teamed up for all the projects and shit. And Jonas is just… Jonas. He’s basically been my best friend since we met back then.” Isak shrugs before he admits, “He was my first real crush.”

It’s funny that he can say that now and his voice doesn’t waver anymore. When he finally admitted said crush to Jonas, during a night they’d both been smoking a little too much, he remembers his voice cracking and the silence that followed before Jonas patted his head and said something like, “yeah, understandable” which caused them both to burst into giggles.

“Classic move,” Even says, clinking his glass with Isak’s. “Falling for the best friend — level one of the sexual identity struggle.”

“You mean—”

“Oh yeah…” Even nods, sucking in a breath. “Remember Mikael? Nice guy, gave you less-than-subtle hints about my intentions when you came to the Radisson Blu?”

“Right, yeah. Him?”

Even hums his assent.

Isak nods slowly. “Yeah, okay. I see that.”

“Right?” Even says, waving at Isak with his last piece of pizza, clearly happy he’s being validated here.

At that moment the rowdy boys behind them yell and laugh loudly and Isak wants to glare at them but instead settles on exchanging a glance with Even.

“No, no no no, _listen_ ,” one of the guys says, speaking even louder to make sure everyone in the restaurant can hear him. “Professor Hansen just has a weird hard-on for that Orson Welles guy but we’ve had to analyse motherfucking _Citizen Kane_ to the moon and back and I’m _done_ , give us something contemporary.”

Even mouths _film majors_ at Isak and, keeping his voice low so the other guys won’t hear, “Professor Hansen _did_ have a weird hard-on for Orson Welles.”

“That’s pretentious,” Isak snorts. “Like, on a whole new level.”

Even rolls his eyes.

“Like, I just want to talk about like, what’s the guy with the weird space movie and also that movie where everything is in reverse? Memento? What’s he called?”

“Christopher Nolan,” Even mumbles to Isak a second before one of the other guys feels the need to yell that exact same answer through the room.  

“Right! Or that new one by that Bech Næsheim guy? Like give us some local flavour to work with? Plus, that thing was fucking genius, man.”

Even ducks his head a little and Isak smiles when he notices the small, almost involuntary smile playing on Even’s face. If this is how Even always responds to compliments about his work Isak may have to mention enjoying that movie sometime soon.

“Yeah, okay, but that guy’s like, actually crazy,” another voice butts in and all the boys laugh again.

“No, he’s right,” the first voice says, “I read that he’s nuts! Like, of course, should’ve fucking expected real genius can only come from insanity. Guess we’re all headed for the asylum soon lads.”

Isak’s blood runs cold as he hears those words and sees Even freeze in front of him, hands suddenly clenched into fists, knuckles white. Isak is not for a minute concerned that Even’s about to lash out, though. He recognises the attempt at centering yourself and he’s trying to figure out what to do, because he’s furious, _he_ wants to fight, but he also wants to get Even the fuck out of here.

And the whole time, the guys behind them just keep howling with laughter like what they just said is absolutely hilarious, like they’re not the reason this world is fucked up, like they don’t even understand what their words just _did_.

“I mean, I also heard he’s a fag, so,” one of the guys manages to get in, in between the spurts of snickers and well, that’s just fucking it for Isak, isn’t it?

He shoves his chair back roughly as he gets up and turns around to be faced with the guys, and he doesn’t want to give himself the chance to back out of this because he knows if he starts actually considering what he’s about to do the flight part of his fight-or-flight response is going to kick in like lightning.

“Hey, assholes,” he says and they all look up at him, and it could have been fucking comedic if Isak didn’t want to punch them all in the face so much. There’s five of them and despite the fact that they’re film majors at least three of them are bigger than he is.

“What?” the guy that started it all asks.

“I couldn’t help but overhear what you were saying because you were being like, really fucking loud so first of all, fuck you. I hope that’s not too much for your shrimp sized brains to comprehend but maybe someone telling you to your face what a fucking asshole you are will get through those thick skulls. I hope you realise your privileged asses are the fucking reason there are people who don't feel safe to be who they are.”

“Dude, chill, we didn’t mean—”

“I literally don’t give a single shit whether you meant it ‘that way’ or not because you don’t realise that it doesn’t fucking matter if you just keep spouting ignorant bullshit around. People in this world have had to fight for who they are, and they’ve died because of it, and they still are, because of assholes like you that don’t understand that trivialising and making fun of things like mental illness, pretending it isn’t a real thing that real fucking people have to deal with every day is offensive as fuck.”

As he’s saying the words he’s trying to ignore the pang in his chest. It feels almost like hypocrisy, calling other people out when he was the one leaving his own mother at 15 because he couldn’t cope, when Eskild has had to call him out on his own internalised homophobia so many times.

He takes a deep breath, ready to go for some more, really dig himself in deep, go all out.

Then, he feels a cold hand grasp his wrist, but it’s Even voice that really pulls him back.

“Isak, let’s go.”

He doesn’t understand how Even can sound so calm, so composed, so uncaring, but he sees the moment the other guys sitting around the table look at Even and recognise who he is, their mouths dropping.

“I think it’s time you all dropped the fuck out of university if you watched his movie and didn’t get that message,” Isak spits before promptly turning around and walking out of the restaurant, Even leading him by the hand.

He’s feeling hot all over, tingling but not in the nice way, more in the way that he can’t feel the tips of his fingers, like he’s going to pass out any minute. He wants to tell Even they need to sit down but then the cool air hits his face.

He isn’t aware of where they’re going but he trusts Even’s hand on his back, gently guiding.

When they finally stop, the world around them is quieter and Isak realises Even’s led them away from the busy streets and is now putting his hands by Isak’s face, forcing him to look at Even. Isak doesn’t know whether he’s shivering from the strange sudden cold he’s feeling or trembling from the residual anger and adrenaline rushing through his veins.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Even says and his voice sounds dulled, like Isak’s in a bubble and Even is just outside of it. “I need you to breathe, okay. Breathe with me.”

In the very back of his mind, a small voice is telling Isak it’s really fucking ironic that he’s the one that’s being taken care of right now, that he just needs to get his shit together because this shouldn’t be about him at all, but it’s not enough, it doesn’t help, so in the end he tries to just focus on Even’s voice as it slowly becomes clearer.

At some point, he starts feeling a little bit less like he’s drowning and little bit more like he’s almost coming up for air. Even’s thumb keeps slowly brushing over his cheek and even though Isak still has trouble concentrating on what he is really saying, hearing his voice is soothing.

He’s not sure how long it takes, but after a while his heart seems to settle down again and Even slowly lets go of his face. Isak wants to tell him to stay close, but before he can get a sound past his lips, Even is wrapping his arms tightly around Isak and Isak can’t do anything but return the hug and melt into Even’s embrace. He feels the warmth radiating from Even’s body and seeping into his own, the sensation in his fingertips returning as he clenches his fists around Even’s coat.

Isak has a strange relationship with anger. He’s terrible around people that are angry, even if it’s not directed at him. It reminds him of yelling at his own house when he was little and it still makes him freeze up. At the same time, he can get _so fucking angry_ himself sometimes, and it’s horrible. It scares him. He doesn’t want to be like that.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, and his voice feels weird, still like it isn’t really his. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

Even shakes his head pulling back from the hug a little so he can look Isak in the eye. “It’s okay.”

“It’s _not_ ,” Isak shoots back shakily. “They shouldn’t have said that, that’s not fucking _right—_ and I should’ve just gotten you out of there, I shouldn’t have—”

“Isak,” Even interrupts carefully. “I’m not saying what they were talking about is okay. It’s not. It fucking sucks that they say it anyway. But _you_ don’t have to apologise for what they said and calling them out— I mean, it’s a pick your battles kind of situation. It’s happened before, and it’s probably gonna happen again. We can’t fight everyone.”

“I want to fight everyone,” Isak mutters under his breath, causing Even to huff out a short laugh.  

“Let’s now just… Let’s just get you home, okay?”

Isak nods. It’s only now that he’s feeling how mind-numbingly tired he feels, how heavy his limbs are. He kind of just wants to lie down and sleep for twelve hours straight. Even puts a light hand on his back and starts guiding him back to the busy street.

The way back to the kollektiv is quiet. They sit down in a mostly empty part of the tram, Even tracing patterns on the back of Isak’s hand, Isak allowing his head to rest on Even’s shoulder and revelling in the lightweight he feels when Even rests his head against Isak’s in turn.

“I’m sorry the world is really shit sometimes,” Isak says.

It stays quiet so long that he starts wondering if Even heard him at all, but then—

“Yeah, me too.”

Isak squeezes Even’s hand in a show of quiet support. He doesn’t know what else to do. He’s not sure Even needs more of him right now, so he just sits in quiet until they come to their stop and get out.

When they get inside, Isak hears the sound of the tv in the living room, which means Eskild is still up, and a second later he hears, “You guys are back early! I hope you know I’m not letting myself be removed from my home so you better be—”

Eskild stops talking the moment they walk into the living room, coats still on. He seems to be taking in Isak’s tired expression in a heartbeat, immediately switching from light and teasing into full on guru mode.

“What happened?”

Isak plops down on the couch but just shakes his head, afraid he’ll just get angry again if he starts recounting the incident to Eskild.

“Some guys said some shitty stuff about— well, about me, while we were having dinner,” Even decides on in the end, sinking down next to Isak. Isak notices the grim look they exchange before Eskild moves over to them and wraps his arms around them — or, he tries, and from Isak’s other side Even follows suit, so suddenly Isak is in the middle of a lot of warmth and it’s probably just the bone deep fatigue but he feels his throat close up and his eyes burn.

When Even leaves, Isak walks him out and before he’s actually out of the door, he grabs Even’s arm.

“I’m sorry I got angry,” he starts, and he’s glad to notice his voice sounds a lot steadier when he says it this time around. “If you want to talk about this later, I can do that without getting angry again, okay? You don’t have to but if you want to— we can do that, too.”

Even smiles and Isak is glad he doesn’t start telling Isak everything’s all right, and doesn’t start making excuses for Isak’s anger again.

Instead, he just nods.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

—

They’re both busy for the next couple of days. Isak doesn’t want to say he misses Even because that would be sort of silly, right? He’s gone all these years without Even and now all of a sudden there’s this unsatisfied feeling when he’s sitting alone in his room at night. And it’s not like they haven’t been texting.

And he gets it, because Even is home for a bit and there’s a load of people that want to spend time with him and see him so why should he give Isak, who Even’s hardly known for longer than a week, more attention than any of those people? Isak gets it. He doesn’t get to complain just because he’s suddenly experiencing Feelings now.

Friday night, he gets a call. It’s Even, which — kind of weird? Isak knows he’s supposed to be at dinner with his parents right now, they’d texted about it earlier, but when he picks up Even doesn’t give him the breathing time to formulate a question about it.

“Come meet me.”

“What?”

“It’s 21:21, so I’m making a wish and my wish is for you to come meet me.”

Isak can feel his heart speed up.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with your parents?” he asks, a little breathlessly.

“I left early. I — dinner was lovely but I’d rather spend the rest of the night with you. So please. Please come meet me,” Even repeats for the third time and he sounds so hopeful and jittery and Isak can’t help but smile.

Isak is quiet for a beat.

“You know, you shouldn’t say your wishes out loud if you want them to come true,” he says then, while quietly pushing himself off his bed and putting on his shoes with his free hand.

“I thought I’d speak it into existence.”

“I don’t think that’s how wishes work.”

“Since when do you believe in magical wishes?”

“I don’t.”

Even hums as Isak finds his coat, more for form than because he’ll need it and waves his arm at Eskild until he’s looked up from the tv, gesturing that he’s going out.

“So?” Even asks when the silence lasts.

Isak can’t fend the smile off his face. “Text me where you are.”

—

He meets Even at a tram stop. Even is waiting for him with a smile, jacket thrown across his shoulder and the moment he spots Isak something lights up, something that makes it simply impossible for Isak to not radiate happiness right back.

After exchanging _halla_ s Even nods his head towards one of the streets in a silent directory. Isak follows closely and he’s still a little bit full of the feeling, full of Even saying _I’d rather spend the rest of the night with you_ , so he just tries to find that part of himself that can help remind him that this is okay. No stress.

They walk in silence for a while when Even says, “I love the city like this. When I’m away I miss it so much and when I’m back and I’m confronted with all the business and the drag I sometimes forget why but then I look at it like this and I remember. Look at the sky.”

“Civil twilight,” Isak says automatically.

“Hm?”

“It’s— when the sky is like this,on the edge of really going towards darker blue, with all the colours,” he waves at the hints of pink and purples showing just over the rooftops, “it’s called civil twilight. First you have civil twilight, like this. Then nautical twilight, when the sky gets darker and it’s supposedly that, if you’re at sea, the human eye can’t see the distinction between the sky and the ocean. And then finally there’s astronomical twilight, when the stars come out.”

He stops talking, suddenly self-conscious when he realises it’s not really like Even asked to be told anything about the different kinds of twilight that exist, he was really just making a note about how aesthetically beautiful the sky looked right now.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. His gaze shoots towards Even, only to find Even already looking at him, a smile playing on his lips.

“What are you apologising for?”

Isak doesn’t reply, just shrugs.

“Have you read all the books in that shop of yours?”

“No. I’ve steered clear of the Steve Jobs biographies for the most part. And the books on mining geology,” he says, fixing Even with a look. “No, but, I mean I try to read a lot of them? I want to give people good advice and like, a lot of them are just really interesting, you know? But obviously I haven’t read all of them. I wish. When I was little I thought working in a bookstore meant you could just read all day. Those dreams were crushed pretty quickly.”

Even hums.

“You up for something else?”

Isak squints at him. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know where we are?”

Isak looks around, shrugging. He recognises the neighbourhood even though he doesn’t spend a lot of his days around here. The houses are kind of fancy, the streets wide.

“There’s a park here. It’s pretty big, but you can’t see it well from here, it’s all hidden from view by the trees and the gates and all the vines. Kind of like the secret garden,” Even says, trailing his free hand across the bars of one of the gate. “I think it’s free for the people that live around here, if you want in as an outsider you have to pay.”

Isak nods slowly. “Cool…”

“Let’s go in,” Even says, staring at the gate.

“What?” Isak frowns. “No? It’s closed. Plus, you said you have to pay for it if you don’t live here. We can’t go in. What if someone sees us? We’ll get arrested or something… That doesn’t sound like a really good ending of the night.”

Even raises his eyebrows. “Come on? Jonas would totally not appreciate the fact that you’re letting those rich capitalists over there take away your opportunity to see this beautiful park.”

“I know I shouldn’t have let you two talk that long during dinner,” Isak groans.

“Let’s go in,” Even repeats. “Come on, do something stupid with me tonight. It’ll be a great story to tell one day.”

He’s looking at Isak with those eyes that are just daring and sparkling in the light of the street lamps that have just flicked on and Isak knows in that very moment that no matter how much he’s going to protest, no matter how much his head is telling him that this is dumb and there’s just _no way_ it’s not going to end with the two of them in jail for the night, he’s not going to be able to resist that look.

“I can’t fucking believe you…” he says, walking towards the gates and grasping two of the bars. “Can’t believe I’m doing this. If we get caught I’m telling them you forced me.”

Even’s smile is blinding.

They climb over the gates and Isak only worries a little bit about how incredibly graceless he must look because Even is a mess of long limbs as well as he half climbs, half pulls himself over the gate and inelegantly lands on the other side.

It’s weird but a couple of steps into the garden and it feels like they’re suddenly very far away from the rest of the world. He knows the vines aren’t suddenly soundproofing the roads outside or something, but standing in the darkness with Even, a soft glow coming from a couple of street lights further down the path, he’d believe they’ve just stepped into a different world.

“Come on,” Even grins, motioning for Isak to come along with a nod of his head.

“Have you been here before?” Isak asks, trailing behind Even.

“I had a friend in primary school who used to live in one of the houses around this place, so we’d play here a lot whenever I came over.”

They walk for a little bit until Even stops and Isak almost walks into him.

“Wha—” he says, until he sees why Even halted.

They’re on top of a little hill and at its foot lies a pool. It’s only lit up by a couple of lights in the water, it’s surface completely still. It looks appealing. Young Isak wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from breaking it immediately.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Even asks, but he’s already gone ahead, walking towards the pool, taking his phone and wallet out of his pockets and putting them away in his jacket.

“What the fuck?” Isak asks in return, but he follows anyway, throwing his jacket next to Even’s and taking his shoes off too before walking over to where Even is standing at the edge of the pool, staring down at the surface.

They stand that way in silence for a while. It feels strangely heavy — Isak can feel his heart beat faster and he’s not even sure why. He sees movement in the corner of his eye and follows Even’s hand as it reaches for him.

For a moment he thinks Even’s going for his hand but he doesn’t, instead lets his hand reach over to Isak’s lower back, fingertips light as feathers as they slowly trail higher and higher.

Isak thinks that he might faint if Even keeps touching him. He also never wants him to stop. He’s about to turn towards Even, turn closer, reach out, when there’s a sudden push between his shoulder blades and his arms are flailing, trying to keep his balance but he can feel it in his stomach, the feeling of tipping forward, falling.

In the moment of blind panic that follows he grapples for Even’s arm, and feels victorious for about a millisecond when he hears Even’s “ _shit_ ” and then they both hit the water.

It’s cold — colder than the summer air and Isak heaves when he comes back up for air and the chilly water makes his lungs feel half their actual size.

“ _Hva_ _faen_ ,” he gasps as Even comes up for air next to him and promptly starts laughing. “That was _so_ unnecessary!”

“I had to get you in here somehow,” Even laughs, swimming over.

Isak backs away slowly, standing on the tips of his toes to keep from sinking.

“Did you? Did you really?” he deadpans.

“Yep.”

Isak bites the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep himself from smiling, but he fails miserably and Even sees it too, causing his smile to broaden, his eyes to crinkle.

“Come on, race you to the other side and back,” Even says then, and Isak sighs before making his way over to where Even is already in position.

“Fine, but I’m warning you, I’m a great swimmer,” Isak says.

He’s not, really, never been a particularly big fan of water, but he’s competitive as fuck so there you go.

Even does not deem that worthy of a response, just says, “Ready, set, go!” and they’re off.

It’s quite a drag, to be honest, both of them still wearing most of their clothes. Isak does his best to remember his swimming instructions but ends up just doing something that at least makes him feel like he’s going kind of fast. When he reaches the other side of the pool and pushes himself off from the wall to make his way back, Even is only a second or two behind him.

He’s almost back where they started, only a couple more strokes and he’ll have made it, when he feels a hand around his calf, pulling him back, and in the moment it takes him to regain momentum Even passes him by and reaches the side of the pool, fist pumping as he does so.

“ _Nei!_ You can’t _cheat_!” Isak says indignantly.

“Who says?”

“I say!” Isak sputters.

“And you make the rules?” Even asks, drifting closer with his eyebrows raised and that stupid, amused smile on his face.

“Ja, did nobody tell you?” Isak replies, though his voice is a little softer and his breath hitches as Even comes closer still.

He swallows heavily, unable to look away.

“Nope, no one mentioned…”

Isak is pressed against the side of the pool now, wall lining up with his back as he watches Even. There’s anticipation rushing through his veins, making his fingertips tingle and his stomach swoop.

He wants to reach out again, pull Even closer  _now_ but he waits instead, waits until there’s almost nothing he can do without touching Even because that’s how close they are, waits with his heart beating in his throat, waits while Even reaches out and pushes some wet hair out of Isak’s face.

“I really want to kiss you,” Even whispers then, and it sounds like he’s nervous again. The softness of it makes Isak’s heart stop beating for a moment.

He pushes himself just that little bit closer to Even, almost too near to keep looking at each other, and licks his lips.

“You should,” he replies, and they’re so, so close now, nose to nose, and he’s almost saying the words into Even’s mouth already. He doesn’t miss the way Even smiles, though, right before he leans in the last bit and their lips are finally, _finally_ , touching.

It’s soft — or that’s how it starts out. Isak doesn’t think he’s ever kissed like this with anyone. The enormity of the moment doesn’t seem to add up with the gentleness of the kiss itself. It’s like that for a while, just carefully exploring lips against each other, and then Even sighs and it’s that little moment that fans the fire still burning in Isak’s chest.

His hands climb to Even’s shoulders, pulling him closer so they’re chest to chest now and Even seems to get the message because his hands start to wander as well, one grasping Isak’s side and the other on his face, thumb brushing Isak’s cheek, and then he’s pushing Isak against the side of the pool and Isak is wrapping his arm around Even’s neck and somehow they manage to walk the line between tenderness and neediness.

Isak is so sure now that this is new.

He knows kissing. He knows need.

But he didn’t know _this_ , not this pleasant turmoil in his stomach and chest, not the satisfaction that comes after the anticipation, not the way it feels to have Even’s hand roam across his lower back.

Not until now.

He’s not sure how much time they spend like that, he only knows that when they break away the sky is even darker than before.

“Holy shit,” Isak breathes.

“Such profanity, Isak,” Even replies with a grin.

When Isak rolls his eyes, Even just laughs softly and peppers him with kisses, presses them to Isak’s cheeks and nose and temple in quick succession until Isak is laughing too, softly pushing Even away because he thinks his face might never stop burning if this goes on any longer.

At some point, the water starts feeling a little too cold and they climb out, falling onto the grass next to their coats and shoes. Even takes off his shirt and lies it out next to him under the guise of it drying easier like that, and Isak just needs to take a moment of staring at (no, admiring) Even’s bare chest.

He feels only kind of completely embarrassment when his eyes move up and he finds Even looking at him because honestly — what did Even expect?

A little more nervous, he follows suit and puts his shirt down on the grass with a little too much care just so he won’t have to see whether Even is also looking at _him_.

Then, he lies down next to Even, staring at the sky, and slowly feels his heart rate come down a little. As he tries to find the constellations he knows in the darkening sky, he tries to wrap his head around all of this. It shouldn’t be this difficult, probably, but it is, it really is. He thinks of seeing Even on the covers of magazines and in Magnus’s messages a couple of weeks ago, and then he looks to the side and sees Even _right there_ , looking at the sky, and he’s _real_ and he’s here with Isak.

It doesn’t feel real.

Isak lets his hand move toward Even until it bumps into Even’s hand and smiles softly when Even’s hand immediately turns over so their hands can fit together.

“So,” Even says at some point, still looking at the sky, voice just above a whisper. They’re lying close enough together that it doesn’t matter. “Why does a scientist open a bookstore?”

“Is that the start of a bad joke?” Isak tries.

Even huffs, but doesn’t say more and Isak realises he’s not getting out of this one that easily. He licks his lips as he tries to think of how best to explain this.

“I was pretty good at biology in secondary school, so when it was time to pick what to study at university I just kind of went with biochem without looking further. I mean — it was a good pick, I really enjoyed it, the learning.

“But then after that was done I just… I loved learning all that stuff but sitting in a laboratory all day doing research… it just kind of numbed my brain. And I hated noticing that all the things I used to find so interesting were now the reason I didn’t want to go to work anymore. So I quit working at the company that offered me a job after university, and then I had this big freakout because I had no fucking idea what I _did_ want to do with my life. It took a lot of conversations with a lot of people to convince me that I didn’t just throw away the only thing I was, you know, even remotely good at.”

For a moment, he lets himself dwell in the way Even’s thumb strokes the back of his hand.

“So then, the bookstore… I guess it just. I really like books. Not all of them, but I love the ones that explain the world to me. When I was younger I thought I hated reading but then Jonas’s parents bought him this book about biology, really simple stuff but I loved it because it just— it helped make sense of a lot of things while so much of my life felt like a mess.

“Anyway, one day I’m walking home from this stupid supermarket job I was doing at the time to make some money, I see the _for sale_ sign on this old antique shop and I just go in and the girl tells me she’s trying to sell it as soon as possible because the store belonged to her grandma that passed away recently. And so I just, um, I just got it,” he finishes lamely.

More stars have come out now and Isak traces the ones that make up Ursa Major with his eyes.

“That’s funny,” Even muses. “I like stories because they help me make sense of real life too, but I haven’t picked up a biology book since secondary school. I guess I feel like reading and watching and creating stories… it gives me the opportunity to shape reality in a way? It’s a little like your parallel universes, actually.”

Isak’s heart jumps when Even makes that reference. “What do you mean?”

“It’s like… When I make a movie, I get to see how this one universe plays out. I can shape the world and the people in it but they’re based on real life, right? Like the world of my movie isn’t the _exact same_ as the one we live in, but it’s a version of that world. And the people — ideally at least — they feel real, like they could have existed, in some other version of reality. So directing a movie is a little like I’m showing one of those infinite universes — and like. I realise that sounds like I think I’m some kind of god creating worlds or something and I really don’t,” Even continues, wrinkling his nose at the idea. “I just. I hadn’t really thought of it like this before. To be honest, the whole parallel universes idea kind of freaked me out at first.”

“It did?”

“Yeah. Just, the enormity of it. Makes me feel a little like none of this,” he gestures around him vaguely, “like none of it really means anything and that’s not something I want to believe.”

“It doesn’t have to mean that,” Isak says quietly. “Our universe doesn’t become less important just because there are others out there. This place is still ours.”

Even hums.

“You know how to find the pole star?” Isak asks when the silence lasts too long for his liking.

“I didn’t think I was gonna get lost at sea without a compass any time soon so I never bothered to learn.”

Isak shoves Even’s shoulder lightly and then scoots a little closer, pointing with his free hand up at the sky. He explains how to find Ursa Major and then how to find the Ursa Minor and the pole star by following the line the outer two stars make and he notices Even turning to him and not looking at the sky anymore about halfway through his explanation but he doesn’t care.

Once he finishes explaining, Even presses a kiss to his cheek and heaves himself up on one elbow, hovering over Isak for a second or two letting his eyes roam Isak’s face before leaning in and pressing their lips together more. Isak doesn’t mind at all.

When they finally leave the park, Isak can’t help but feel a little relieved. It’s just that if they _had_ got caught and he’d had to explain that to the boys, there’s no way they would have ever let him live it down.

They put on their t-shirts again and Isak momentarily grieves the loss of the good view before hauling his own damp shirt over his head. He checks his phone and is surprised to find it’s almost twelve (but then again, maybe he shouldn’t be surprised — time with Even seems to move at a different pace and Isak knows, he _knows_ , that that’s not actually possible but he’s maybe starting to understand what people mean by that saying).

“My place isn’t far from here,” Even says. “If you want to maybe… change shirts.”

Isak wants to point out that it’s more his jeans that are uncomfortably clingy and drenched still, but decides against it in favour of not ruining the moment.

“Yeah, okay,” he says instead. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”

Even wasn’t lying — he does live nearby. They’re there in ten minutes and there’s a thrill in Isak’s stomach as Even fumbles with his keys, unlocking the door to the building so they can climb the stairs.

“They didn’t think of putting a lift in this building?” Isak puffs as they climb the third staircase.

“Physical exercise is good for you, Isak,” Even replies, looking back at Isak and goddamn _winking_.

Fucking hell, Isak’s nerves weren’t made to withstand this kind of teasing.

Even unlocks the door to his apartment and opens it, still laughing at Isak’s flushed face when he steps inside but the smile is replaced by a frown soon. Isak is immediately on edge.

“What?”

“I didn’t leave the light on,” Even says, staring at the burning light in the hallway as if it’s going to explain to him why it’s on if he just waits long enough.

“You’re sure?” Isak prompts, closing the door behind them.

“Yeah.”

“So what, someone’s in the middle of breaking into your apartment?”

He tries to play it off as a joke but it falls kind of flat, despite Even huffing out a short laugh that doesn’t really convince anyone.

Even goes ahead, but Isak lingers in the hallway for a moment. He’s sort of glad to see that despite all the supposed fame and fortune, Even’s apartment feels kind of like the kollektiv but sized down. That is, kind of messy, a heap of shoes and coats and shawls in the hallway (Isak makes a note of teasing Even about that later), and it’s kind of small but not in a cramped way.

“What are you doing here?”

Isak is quickly dragged out of his own thoughts, his head shooting up at the tone of Even’s voice. It’s not cold, it’s mostly confused and little betrayed. He hesitates for a moment but then follows the sound of Even’s voice into the small living room.

“Visiting you?” a woman’s voice replies, tone insinuating that that should be obvious.

When he comes into the room, there’s a girl there — or, a young woman. She has short blond hair and blue eyes, and from the empty tea mug and the blanket on the couch, it looks like she’s been sitting here for a while.

Even doesn’t seem to be happy to see her.

Isak is confused, to say the least.

“So you just let yourself into my apartment?”

“Come on,” she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I have your key, I just thought it’d be nicer to wait inside and surprise you.”

“You have the key for emergencies, which this _really_ isn’t,” Even says.

Isak is just wondering _why_ this girl has Even’s key if he’s so clearly uncomfortable with her being here when she finally notices him. For a second, she looks him up and down and Isak isn’t sure if it’s just the low lighting but it seems like something in her jaw tightens when she looks back at Even, eyebrows raised, as if asking, _who is this?_

Even turns around and for a moment it seems he, too, had forgotten Isak was there. Now, he takes a deep breath, eyes settling on Isak for a moment, looking troubled, like he’s debating what to do.  

“This is Isak,” he says finally, “Isak, this is Sonja.”

It’s not like that clears anything up, but Isak shakes her hand anyway muttering a weak and completely awkward “hei” before he retreats back to Even’s side. He wants to grab Even’s hand because it’s shaking but for some reason he doesn’t quite dare.

“What did you do tonight? Why are you both all wet?” she asks, her eyes roaming their damp clothes again.

Even doesn’t answer.

“We, um, we broke into a swimming pool,” Isak replies after a couple of seconds because the silence is weighing on him, and he attempts a joking tone but from the look on Sonja’s face it doesn’t quite land.

“You what?” she asks, voice tense.

“It’s nothing,” Even sighs, and he suddenly sounds tired. “It doesn’t matter, it’s none of your business. Just— why are you here? Don’t tell me you’re just here to visit. You don’t even live in Oslo anymore.”

“I just wanted to check up on you or — check in _with_ you,” she says finally. “I hadn’t heard from you in a while.”

“I’ve been back for like a _week,_ and it’s not like I’m staying long anyway. I’m sorry I didn’t send you my fucking schedule,” Even mutters, and there’s that bitter tone that Isak recognises from during dinner again. “Though it’s not like you had any trouble figuring it out on your own.”

“Stop being so fucking dramatic. I just care about you,” she tries, and her voice has taken on a hostility now that she seems to realise that Even’s wariness isn’t just going away.

“No,” Even shakes his head. “You don’t get to do that. That doesn’t excuse you being here. You don’t get to come show up on my doorstep unannounced and invade my private space, my _home_. We’re not together anymore. I don’t need you checking up on me.”

And, well, that clears some things up. Isak remembers what Even said about his ex-girlfriend during dinner. At the time, he hadn’t really understood what Even meant but now, being faced with said ex-girlfriend, he thinks he’s getting an idea.

He’s also feeling increasingly more and more uncomfortable being caught in this fight.

“Someone needs to,” she spits back. “You decided it’d be a great idea to break into a swimming pool tonight? And I mean, it’s not like your new boyfriend seems to be doing a great job of taking care of you. He looks like a drowned puppy.”

Even’s eyes flit to Isak, and Isak wants to protest because _none of this_ seems fair — not to him and not to Even, but his body isn’t working, his mouth feels dry and his hands feel sweaty and he’s rooted into place, unable to do anything but watch from the sidelines.

He’s never been good with fights. They remind him that he’s never been good at fighting back, not when his parent yelled, not when Elias used to say dumb shit and make him feel like there was a part of himself he needed to tear out.

“Keep Isak out of your bullshit, please. This doesn’t have anything to do with him,” Even says, voice strained with fatigue and tension, and Isak wishes he could go back to half an hour ago, when he felt like he was walking on air and when Even was still smiling. “You need to stop assuming that I can’t take care of myself.”

It’s quiet for a moment and Isak finally finds a moment to get himself together.

“Even?”

Even immediately turns to him, all of the anger gone.

“I think I’m gonna go home, okay?” Isak says, and he hates how small his voice sounds.

Part of him wants to stay here with Even and stand by him, but he also feels so incredibly out of place in this strange apartment, in the midst of a fight between people who have known each other for much longer than he and Even have. He feels like he’s on the verge of an anxiety attack and he feels fucking weak for not being able to fight against _that_ at least, but the only thing he can think of to fix the panic rising in his chest is to just _get out of here_.

For some reason, he has trouble meeting Even’s eye. He’s afraid he’s gonna see hurt, so he stares at the cracks in the wooden floor instead. He hears shuffling beside him as Even seems to come closer.

“Of course. Shit, I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have had to…” he trails off.

“It’s fine,” Isak mutters, eyes trained on Even’s shoes.

“It’s not,” Even replies quietly. “I’m sorry. I’ll text you later, okay?”

Isak nods automatically. “Sure.”

He looks up at Sonja and mutters a _bye_ in her direction before making his way out.

Isak leaves the building and the minute the soft breeze outside hits his face something in his chest hitches, like he hadn’t been able to breathe properly until now. His hands clench into fists, fingernails pressing into skin, but that pain feels more solid than the dull ache in his lungs. The previously pleasant summer air seems to have taken a turn and now the breeze feels icy against his clammy shirt and jeans. Even with his jacket on, he keeps shivering.

His mind seems hooked on this one thing Even said.

 _It’s not like I’m staying long anyway_.

Isak knows he shouldn’t be taking this thing Even said in the heat of the moment too far, he _knows_ that, but it just reminds him of the fact that they don’t really owe each other anything.

They’ve really hung out only a couple of times and Even has a whole life outside of this (Isak realises he has a life too, but it’s different because his life is here, in Oslo, as it’s been for the past years, and Even’s life is all over the place). He has a whole life outside of this and Isak doesn’t want to be pessimistic, but just looking at this logically, he doesn’t see how it’s going to work well.

Fuck.

This isn’t making his chest hurt any less.

When he finally gets home he takes a long, hot shower and when he gets out, he curls up in bed, and because he apparently likes to torture himself some more, he scrolls through their group chat messages (ignoring the bunch of pictures everyone has been sharing from the dinner party) until he finds the exchange from two weeks ago he’s looking for.

 

 

> **Magnus:** wait how long is he staying?
> 
> **Vilde:** I think for 1.5 weeks or something? He has a showing of the movie in London the Saturday after next.

Isak looks at the time. 01:31. It’s Saturday. Even is leaving today. He puts the phone on his nightstand and curls into his blanket, ignoring the buzzes and closing his eyes, pretending he’s going to get any sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for reading <3 
> 
> come cry with me about skam (or like. anything else) on [twitter](http://twitter.com/jostvns) or [tumblr](http://minjard.tumblr.com)


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm taking a quick break from translating an 18th century text about eating children to feed the rest of the people to bring you chapter 5!! 
> 
> i don't have much to say except for thank you all for your amazing comments, they make my heart flutter!! 
> 
> josulia my dearestest people. play some nummi to distract me from this translation please and thank u (ily both). and as always thanks to mack for spending her precious time helping me out.

Isak thinks he must’ve fallen asleep at some point because when he wakes up the next morning there’s a mug of tea on his nightstand next to his phone (which is dead, seeing as he completely forgot to charge is last night). Quietly he tells himself to be extra nice to Eskild this week. He debates whether to charge his phone, but the thought of having to face messages from his friends makes him feel a little sick to the stomach, so he leaves it where it is and grabs the book on his nightstand.

It’s the parallel universes book he’d shown to Even the first time they met. He ignores that fact, instead opens it at one of the many dog ears and tries to forget the rest of the world for a while. Eskild comes in again half an hour later, this time with a plate of eggs that he puts on Isak’s nightstand silently, taking the now empty cup of tea.

“Do you want to talk about what’s going on?”

Isak doesn’t understand it, sometimes. This way that Eskild can just _tell_ when something is up with the people around him, with only a look, this way he can be completely aloof one moment and also one of the few people Isak feels comfortable with when it comes to talking about his feelings.

So he debates it for a moment. Eskild doesn’t push.

“No. Or— not now,” he amends. “I think I might be going to the store for a bit later.”

Eskild looks at him for a couple of seconds and Isak wonders if he’s gonna get a lecture about how he should open up or about how he shouldn’t be working on the weekend if the shop isn’t actually open, but then Eskild just nods and Isak is just. So grateful.

“Okay. Are you joining for dinner tonight? Linn and I are making pasta, we’re finally opening that package of curly ones in the colours of the Italian flag that Noora brought from when she was travelling.”

“Sounds good,” Isak nods and with that Eskild seems to be satisfied, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Once he’s gone, Isak takes the plate of eggs and forces himself to eat some, meanwhile staring at his phone. He knows he can’t keep avoiding, but he wants to. In the end he just gets it charging and turns it on again.

There are three missed texts from Even, 67 from the group chat, and two from Jonas. He scrolls through the group chat quickly, which is mostly everyone fawning over Mahdi because the restaurant got a raving review in a local magazine. He sends out a _nice job dude_ before switching conversations.

 

> **Jonas:** you wanna hang out today? feel like i haven’t seen you in a while
> 
> i know you’re busy but may i remind you of our many many years of friendship
> 
> idk what ur tlaking about
> 
> jk
> 
> but i was thinking of going into the shop for a while today and sort some stuff out
> 
> raincheck?
> 
> **Jonas:** sure
> 
> everything ok?

He hesitates for only a moment. Jonas is his best friend. Isak _knows_ he would be more than willing to listen and he’ll be more than willing to let Isak tell him at his own time, though Isak also knows Jonas has been more careful with that after he found out how much Isak was willing to endure on his own before it got too much for him.

 

>         yeah everything’s fine

Isak takes a breath before switching over to the conversation with Even. He’s almost glad to see there’s only three messages. It makes him feel a little less guilty about walking out. There’s two from last night and one from this morning.

 

> **Even:** fuck isak I’m so sorry she shouldn’t have been there
> 
> are you okay?
> 
> are you busy today?

He stares at the words until his eyes start to tear up and he has to blink. He doesn’t really know what to do — of course he knows Sonja showing up yesterday wasn’t Even’s fault at all, he seemed as shocked to see her as Isak was, but for some reason it’s left a dark, nasty feeling in Isak’s stomach that he doesn’t seem to be able to get rid off.

 

> i’m okay
> 
> are u?
> 
> i need to go into the shop today, sorry

It’s not that he blames Even for not talking about what they are — he blames himself more for avoiding that whole conversation, and while he’s quite the expert in feeling shitty about himself, it’s still not a nice feeling. Even had mentioned he’s only here for a bit and that’s why he’s trying to see as many people as possible, but it’s mostly been in passing and Isak can’t help but wonder whether it’s because Even didn’t want to have this conversation either.

There’s this nagging voice in the back of his mind, the one that always nags at moments like these, asking him what the fuck he expected from this whole thing, because it’s kind of stupid of him, right? Thinking that something more substantial could grow between them when he _knew,_  knew from the very beginning that Even wasn’t sticking around. They’re just living different lives and there’s no use in blaming anyone.

It still sucks to think about.

He forces himself out of bed and drags his heavy limbs to the shower. It helps, a little, and once he’s out of the warm water and staring at himself in the mirror, he wants to say he looks slightly more presentable. When he gets to the living room, he finds Eskild sprawled out on one couch and Linn on the other, eyes on Eskild as she listens to him rant about one of his coworkers.

“Thanks for the eggs,” Isak says, holding up the empty plate.

“No problem, kid,” Eskild replies fondly.

Any other day Isak would have replied with a semi-offended _I am not a child_ but today he just smiles and brings the plate to the kitchen. He even washes it, leaving it to dry in the rack.

“I’m heading out now, but I’ll be back for dinner,” he tells them before he makes his way out of the building.

It rained last night. He knows it did because he listened to the sound of drops against his window for at least an hour while he was trying to fall asleep. The air is still a little chilly from it, in stark contrast with the heavy summer air from last night. The streets are still wet and they still smell like rain.

Isak’s phone buzzes.

 

> **Even:** I’m fine now, just frustrated she ruined last night
> 
> can I maybe call you later?
> 
> yeah
> 
> any time is fien
> 
> *fine

He’s glad Even doesn’t push the meeting up. He wonders if Even senses Isak is just making up an excuse. He wonders if Even’s maybe glad he doesn’t have to see Isak and explain before he leaves.

Then, his phone rings — and right, he said any time was fine but he didn’t actually expect Even to call now. Maybe he just wants to get it over with.

“Halla.”

“Halla,” Even’s voice tells him through the speakers. He sounds relieved that Isak picked up. “How are you feeling?”

“You already asked that,” Isak reminds him.

“I know. But I thought maybe you were just telling me you were okay because it’s over text and that’s the easiest thing to do, so I wanted to ask again.”

Even can be so straightforward about things like this. It still surprises Isak.

“I’m fine,” he says in the end. “Sorry for not replying last night. I fell asleep.” He hopes Even doesn’t call him out on the lie but then again, Isak hasn’t really shared the ins and outs of the insomnia that’s been haunting him since the start of secondary school, so there’s probably no reason for Even to think he is lying about this.

“It’s okay,” Even says in this way that makes Isak’s heart do a stupid thing because it’s just so genuine, he can hear it so clearly.

“How are you?” Isak asks.

“You already asked that,” Even teases. “But yeah, no, like I said. Frustrated. Frustrated that she came by at all and frustrated that I didn’t just tell her to leave the second I saw her, because then maybe we could’ve ended the night nicer.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s… I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m making this whole thing more complicated than it is or if it just _is_ complicated and—” Even trails off, and he does sound frustrated. “Sorry that you had to get dragged into it.”

“It’s all right. Like you said, you didn’t know she was gonna be there.”

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a bit. Isak turns a street corner and makes his way over to the shop, unlocking it and locking it back up again once he’s inside. It’s eerily silent there, too.

“I’m leaving this afternoon,” Even says, a bit quicker than usual, like he’s rushing it out.

“I know,” Isak tells him, because that sounds a little like _it’s okay_ and he doesn’t want Even to feel bad.

“I know I’m leaving for a bit. And I’m gonna be travelling to do stupid— like, film promotion and whatnot. But we’ll keep in touch, okay. I know there’s time difference and shit but I’ll just, I don’t know, wake up in the middle of the night. Can we do that?”

Isak licks his lips, wonders if he should make a quip about how he never sleeps anyway so it’s fine, but decides against it.

“Yeah. We can.”

“I’m sure none of the interviewers are going to be as nice as you were,” Even says then.

Isak scoffs.

“No, I’m serious! That’s probably the most fun I’ve ever had during a press junket. Those things are completely mind numbing. Everyone thinks they’re original when they’re asking me about how my personal life influenced the making of my movie. Never in my life had I gotten a question about the amount of food produced. A very refreshing experience.”

“The readers of _Kardemomme & Co_ will be happy to hear that,” Isak says, and he can’t help the smile spreading across his face.

“Everything to please the _Kardemomme & Co_ readership.”

Isak wants to say sorry for not being able to hang out today but then he feels guilty for lying about that at all so he stays quiet instead. He’s been standing by the door of the store but now he moves, takes off his jacket and throws it across the counter.

“So we’ll talk?” Even asks.

“We will.” Isak confirms.

Not too long after that they hang up because Even promised to meet his friends for lunch before he left. Isak spends the day resorting bookcases because no one ever seems to be able to put books back where they found him. He once again contemplates whether he should just get rid of the Steve Jobs biographies because he feels like they keep staring at him like some weird, turtleneck wearing Mona Lisa. In the end he just turns them so only the spine is facing him instead of the cover.

Around three, Bente knocks on the front door of the shop and holds up her hands questioningly when he spots her. He lets her come in, but because she’s eating a popsicle he makes her sit on the stool behind the counter so she won’t be a danger to any of the books.

“Why are you working on Saturday?”

“Why aren’t you playing outside with your friends?” Isak retorts, with a look at the kids throwing water balloons at each other outside.

“I’ll do that later,” she tells him. “They’ll stick around. Also, I can’t eat ice cream and throw water balloons at the same time.”

And well, yeah. Okay. That’s very responsible of her.

“Now you answer my question,” she prompts.

“I’m working on Saturday because I’m a stupid grown up that has to do stupid grown up things sometimes. Like come in on a Saturday and work.”

“That’s no fun.”

“Sometimes you have to do things that are no fun just because you know it’s the smartest thing to do,” he says, feeling that uncomfortable twist in his stomach again as he puts back some of the books he’s carrying.

Before he can say more on the subject, she has already moved on and asks, “Why do cats have rough tongues but dogs have soft tongues?” which launches him into a lengthy explanation on the various uses of cat tongues.

He gets home just before dinner, and the kollektiv is filled with the amazing smell of pasta, which makes his stomach grumble even more because despite the fact that Isak is a quote unquote stupid adult, he apparently doesn’t actually know how to take care of himself so he didn’t go out to get lunch and now his stomach hates him for it.

Dinner with Eskild and Linn is fine, but Isak finds himself distracted ever since he’d gotten Even’s _boarding the plane now, I’ll let you know when I land!_ text message an hour earlier, even though he knows the flight is two hours. After washing up (Eskild gives him a concerned look) he retreats to his room early and ends up watching Narcos again.

Isak doesn’t know why he’s still feeling bad. For all intents and purposes that conversation with Even earlier should have eased his mind, settled his nerves, but the nagging feeling is still there, tearing away at the bit of Isak’s confidence he tries to hold onto, despite Even texting him the minute he landed and then texting him again with a picture of himself in _suit_ which, admittedly, got Isak distracted for other reasons for a good while.

Lying sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he tries to talk some sense into himself even though he knows that sort of shit never works as well as if someone else does it for you. It’s gonna be okay, he tells himself. It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay.

At some point it feels like the words don’t make sense anymore. He turns into his pillow and tries to get some sleep.

—

Isak tells himself he should just accept whatever happens next. There’s no point in fighting it if there’s nothing he can do.

And what happens next is this: he texts Even and Even texts him. They call a couple of times right at the beginning, but despite Isak’s theory that they wouldn’t have trouble finding time because it’s not like he’s sleeping well anyway, it’s more difficult than he thought. He’s tired a lot of the time (possibly _because_ of the lack of sleep) and then he’s doing extra work in the shop in an attempt to get the customers flowing some more, and _of course_ Even is busy, always up early and in bed late, flying all over the place to this festival and that screening.

It’s not like he can blame either of them, really. Only — he can. He can, he fucking can, because fuck if there’s not a great many nights when Isak stares at their previous text conversations and debates typing something, telling Even about this woman that actually bought one of the Steve Jobs biographies, sending him a video of Magnus and Eva trying to trump each other on Just Dance, just _anything_.

In the end he always locks his phone again with this feeling of dread in his stomach, this feeling that tells him if he wants something to change he should _do something_ , and still he doesn’t.

And so their calls stop after a week in which they’re both too busy, and slowly the texts dwindle down and Isak can feel it all slipping away from him. And he’s letting it. He wants to hold onto the idea that it is because they’re both busy but he knows there’s a part of him that’s happy it could happen like this so he wouldn’t have to deal with Even’s eventual rejection.

“Dude, have you talked to Even recently?” Magnus asks one night.

They’re having pre-drinks at the kollektiv and they’re supposed to go out later but if it were up to Isak he’d just drink a lot of beer right here sitting on his kitchen table and move to bed afterwards.

“Yeah man, what happened with that?” Jonas asks, maybe a little more warily.

Isak stares at his can of beer for a moment as he tries to figure out how to play this off casually enough for them to accept it but not so casually that Jonas is going to see right through him and will want to have a Conversation about it later.

“Nothing happened with that,” he settles on in the end, “I mean— we hung out a couple of times and it was cool but, like, obviously nothing was gonna _happen_.”

“What do you mean _obviously_?” Jonas asks.

“Yeah, dude, you’re a catch,” Mahdi adds.

“I mean, I wouldn’t go _that_ far,” Magnus says.

“Thanks guys,” Isak replies, glaring at Magnus. “I’m not trying to be self-deprecating—” he is, a little, “—we just… we’re living really different lives and it just wasn’t gonna work. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He forces himself to meet all of their eyes for at least a second to reassure them, even though he isn’t entirely sure if he’s doing a good job. Magnus seems to deflate a little and Mahdi nods his understanding, but Jonas just looks at him pensively until Isak averts his gaze and takes another swig of beer.

“Man, that would’ve been so cool, if you’d dated Even Bech Næsheim…” Magnus muses.

“Stop saying his entire name dude, you met the guy, it’s getting kind of weird,” Jonas says. “He’s just a person. I thought that’d finally get through to you once you’d seen him fall in love with Mahdi’s brownies.”

“All mortals cave in the end,” Mahdi nods.

Isak raises his beer in agreement.

“All right, but in that case we need to find you someone to hook up with to get you out of wallow mode,” Magnus says and Isak groans. “It’s really a bummer if you sit here being sad, man, makes me sad too.”

“You could just leave,” Isak suggests.

“Or I could cheer you up. Look— isn’t it a good plan to just go out tonight, we can go to a gay club and all, and we’ll find you a hot guy to make out with? We’ll be the best wingmen!”

The idea of Magnus joining him in a gay club is, quite frankly, terrifying and he thinks it would lead to him not being allowed into said club anymore, which is exactly what he’s about to say when Jonas butts in.

“I don’t know if getting Isak a drunk hookup is really gonna do the job, Mags.”

“Thank you, Jonas. Wait— There’s no job to be _done_ ,” Isak amends. “Like I said, I’m fine. It wasn’t a big thing anyway. Magnus is probably having a tougher time with it than I am. Go get _him_ a hookup.”

“I mean, I’m not opposed to that,” Magnus says.

“Not the point man, but we’ll see what we can do,” Jonas shakes his head before looking back at Isak. “Just. Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

He knows Jonas means it and he also knows he’s not gonna take him up on that offer because avoiding his problems is always what Isak has done best, and despite the progress he’s made in the past year, it’s still the easiest way out.

Nevertheless, he nods, mutters a “thanks, man” in Jonas’ direction before getting another beer, extremely glad that Mahdi is tactful enough to now change the subject.

Later that night, when he lies in bed resigning himself to another night of terrible sleep, Isak tortures himself some more staring at the last of his texts with Even. It’s awkward to read back, the way their conversations become almost stilted near the end, the _how are you_ s answered with mere _fine, pretty busy_ s, a lonely _haha_ Isak’s only response to a Seinfeld meme Even sent him. He locks his phone and closes his eyes. If he lies very, very still he can imagine the feeling of Even’s kisses and pretend that’s not the most pathetic thing he’s ever heard. 

—

It turns out what Jonas means by “not finding Isak a drunk hookup in a gay club” is “finding Isak a semi-sober hookup during a party”, or that’s what Isak deduces from the fact that over the next few weeks either Jonas or Eva (who, of fucking course, is in on this) keeps introducing him to some vague but incredibly smart/interesting/cool acquaintance, after which they not so subtly leave the conversation, leaving Isak to try and make small talk with some random guy for part of the night until he manages to escape.

Thing is, he gets it, sure, and maybe they’re right, maybe this would be the best way to get over whatever residual feelings he still has for Even (and there’s a lot of them). It’s just difficult when every time he’s talking to one of the guys, his mind drifts to Even. And it’s surely not Alexander’s fault that when he talks about some movie he saw recently, Isak can’t help but remember the way Even gets excited about film and it just… it doesn’t compare.

It’s stupid and it’s annoying, because right now he’s standing here listening to Alexander talk about how he studied biochemistry too which should totally be a turn on for Isak, but it’s not, and he’s not excited about this person and Isak _knows_ it’s all him, that before he would’ve probably been interested but that’s just the thing, isn’t it?

It’s not before anymore. And now Isak is stuck.

So when Eva and Jonas hang back later, the rest of the group moving on to another party, and look at him expectantly, he sinks a little bit deeper into the couch.

“He’s great,” he mutters.

“And he’s a _scientist_ ,” Eva says excitedly. “And he’s _very_ handsome, right?”

“Yep,” Isak nods, letting the p pop.

“But?” Jonas prompts, when the silence lasts.

Isak shrugs helplessly. “It’s— He’s just not—” He groans frustratedly.

Jonas snorts.

“I’m just gonna, I don’t know, stay here, on this couch, forever. And like, in thirty years when all of you are happy, I’m still gonna be here. Cool?”

“You’re always welcome on our couch,” Eva says solemnly.

“Thank you.”

—

When it happens, he doesn’t read about it himself — he has to hear it from Magnus, of all people. Or, he shouldn’t be so surprised about that. Of course he hears it from Magnus. It’s Wednesday evening when his phone starts buzzing insistently and because Isak is just trying to live his life and read his book in peace, he tries to ignore it. He picks it up, annoyed, about to put it on silent when his eye catches one of the messages Magnus just sent.

 

> **Magnus:** fuck did y’all see what they’re writing about even
> 
> fucking assholes
> 
> **Vilde:** He must be feeling awful :(
> 
> I don’t understand how people can do this sort of stuff
> 
> **Eva:** i can. people are trash
> 
> **Jonas:** wtf? what’s going on with even?
> 
> **Magnus:** wait
> 
> _[Magnus sent a link]_

Isak isn’t sure what he was expecting, but he gets a nauseous feeling in his stomach when he sees the link to the English gossip news site, with the headline in big, screaming capital letters: _NORWAY’S SHINING DIRECTOR STAR EVEN BECH NÆSHEIM’S DARK PAST: THESE NEW PICTURES TELL THE REAL STORY!_ and it continues _Has Norway’s pride and joy peaked and fallen already? Anonymous sources report that they are not surprised and they always got a “crazy vibe” from Bech Næsheim. They have shared screenshots of Bech Næsheim’s old Facebook page which shows long religious rants putting forth clear homophobic sentiments. Even though the page has been deleted, multiple people that went to school with the director have been approach and have confirmed the event. This behaviour from supposed pansexual and LGBT supporter Bech Næsheim makes us wonder: how much of this attitude is just a front to get a susceptible minority to support his work?_

He immediately wants to throw his phone away, his stomach swirling unpleasantly. He doesn’t want to read more, he doesn’t _need_ to read more. He feels where this is going. The buzzing hasn’t stopped for a moment in the meantime.

> **Mahdi:** I don’t understand what’s going on
> 
> **Magnus:** they’re suggesting he’s been lying about being bipolar and pan for attention
> 
> **Jonas:** shit
> 
> assholes
> 
> **Eva:** it’s just so disrespectful???? ugh
> 
> **Magnus:** it’s disgusting
> 
> **Vilde:** Do you guys think there’s anything we can do?

Wanting to _do_ something is Isak’s first instinct too but he doesn’t know what the fuck he _can_ do. It’s not like he can make that stupid website take down the article — there’s probably more of them anyway. He doesn’t even fucking know _where_ Even is right now, if he’s with good people and his heart hurts for a moment imagining Even without the people that care about him around him.

He stares blindly in the distance for a couple of seconds longer before unlocking his phone again and starting a new text to Even.

> i dont know where you are
> 
> im sorry we havent talked in a while, i know thats my fault
> 
> but if theres anything i can do please let me know
> 
> people are fucking assholes
> 
> i hope youre okay

He sends the messages before he can think on them for too long, because he’s afraid once he does that he’ll only end up convincing himself Even doesn’t need him or his thoughts or his hopes and that sending messages is useless anyway, then locks his phone and tries to get the nausea to leave his stomach.

His phone buzzes again and his heart beats in his throat as he takes a look, but it’s not Even. It’s Magnus calling him. Isak licks his lips and takes a deep breath before picking up.

“Dude.”

“Hei,” he replies quietly.

“Did you see?”

“I saw.”

“It’s fucked up, it’s so fucking fucked up,” Magnus says and yeah, Isak can do nothing but agree with that. It’s weird hearing Magnus so outwardly angry, Isak doesn’t think he’s ever heard him anything more than frustrated before. “I just, fuck, I know you said you haven’t talked to him in a while but like… I don’t know. I just want to let him know we’re here for him.”

Isak wants to point out that Magnus met Even once and while it’s a nice idea he’s not sure that all of them sending Even messages wouldn’t just end up being overwhelming, but he stops himself. Magnus sounds really hurt right now, and he’s just trying to do something good, something worthwhile. Besides, who the fuck is Isak to say what Even needs right now. Isak hasn’t spoken to Even in over a month.

“I — I just sent him a message asking if there’s anything I could do. And that I hope he’s alright. I don’t— I didn’t really know what else to say,” he admits, feeling guilty the moment he says the words.

“But that’s good, right? Letting him know you support him. That’s good, Isak. I mean there’s not a lot we can do except hop on the first plane and beat up the writer of that article—” Isak snorts humourlessly. “But yeah. Could you maybe let him know we’re all here for him too? I know he doesn’t like, know us very well. But we care anyway.”

“I’ll let him know,” Isak says.

“Okay. Well—”

“Wait, Magnus,” Isak coughs. “Do you— Do you know where he is? Still in London?”

“Hm, no. Or, I don’t know. I saw someone on twitter saying they spotted him at the airport but I’m not sure. I don’t know. I hope he’s with people who know what to do. He cancelled an interview he was supposed to be having tomorrow in London… So maybe he’s coming home. Like I said, I don’t know. There’s not much sense in speculating.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I just—” Isak lets out a heavy breath.

“I know, dude. It sucks. It sucks even more for him.”

They’re both quiet.

“I gotta go. Still got crafts to prepare for tomorrow,” Magnus says then. “Just got momentarily distracted.”

“Good luck with the children,” Isak says.

After they hang up, Isak feels a tiny bit better.

He tries not to worry but still does.

He limits himself to checking his conversation with Even once a day to see whether he’s been online at all. The grey check mark keeps staring back at him, meaning Even’s phone has probably been off since everything went down which Isak guesses is probably not that strange — understandable, even.

On multiple occasions he types out more messages, but in the ends all his _i miss you_ s and _im sorry_ s and _i wish i was with you right now_ s end up deleted with a frustrated sigh. It’s stupid. He doesn’t want Even to feel like he needs to do anything with Isak’s bullshit right now.

Then, on day six, when Isak checks the conversation mostly out of habit and he sees it happen right in front of him. One gray check mark. Two gray check marks. And then, maybe ten seconds later, they turn blue. Isak’s heart skips a beat as he waits. For a moment, his brain tries to consider the chances that Isak checking his phone for five seconds and Even checking his messages would happen at the very same time.

Nothing happens. He waits for a minute, two, ten. Nothing happens and Isak knows he shouldn’t be disappointed but he is. Even doesn’t owe him anything but somewhere, Isak had hoped that maybe, seeing Isak reach out would make Even reach back. Silently he chastises himself for having that hope at all.

 

> we’re all here for you
> 
> no one is taking their bullshit, people are smarter than that

After he locks his phone again, he pulls his laptop towards himself and tries to concentrate on literally anything else, but his mind keeps going back to Even. When he finally, finally falls asleep around 04:30 in the morning, he dreams of parallel universes.

Isak doesn’t hear back from Even the next day. There’s been reports that Even’s back in Oslo, pictures of his parents picking him up at the airport but Isak gets so sick to his stomach thinking about people overwhelming Even now, trying to get a rise out of him because of that trashy article.

In an attempt to distract himself he goes rumbling through the kitchen cabinets to see if there’s anything to snack, and when he comes up empty he looks around, then moves to Eskild’s cabinet to see if there’s anything he could steal (no, borrow) that wouldn’t garner too much attention if it was suddenly gone.

He’s halfway through emptying Eskild’s cabinet when there’s a knock on the door. _Fuck_. That’s probably Eskild coming home early, but of course he forgot his keys again and now Isak rushes all the stuff back into the cabinet and just hopes that Eskild will just accept the messiness.

“I’m coming!” he yells in the direction of the door as he crams a jar of peanut butter back and quickly closes the door of the cabinet, waiting two seconds to see if the contents don’t suddenly come spilling out again before he half sprints, half slides his way to the door and pulls it open.

It’s not Eskild.

Isak’s heart stills in his chest, his breath getting constricted on the way to his lungs, as he takes in the sight of the boy before him.

Even looks on edge. Still like James Dean, with the great hair (though it looks a bit more of a mess than usual), the sunglasses, the jacket, but an on edge James Dean at that. When he meets Isak’s eyes though, the first thing Isak sees is relief and that, yeah, that does something to his chest.

“Halla,” he croaks.

“Halla.” Even smiles for a moment, before it fades and the expression in his eyes darkens again. “Can I come in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for reading <3 
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/jostvns) or [tumblr](http://minjard.tumblr.com)!


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak is momentarily stunned. When he recovers about two seconds later, he quickly steps aside to let Even enter before he can start to look nervous again. “Ja, of course, come in.”
> 
> He gives himself another five seconds as Even walks into the apartment, five seconds to calm down, to come to terms with the fact that yes, Even is back in his house, and he’s not entirely sure why, but he’s also one hundred percent not going to complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woop, we're passing the halfway-there mark here. if at any point you're wondering: boy, do they eat anything but pasta and cheese toasties in this fic??? does zilver just not know how to make any other kind of food so she just returns to the same damn thing over and over again??? the answers are no and yes respectively. so. do with that what you will. 
> 
> thanks again for all the comments and all the notting hill-related love!! it makes me so happy to read your remarks. 
> 
> julia, it's your fault they only eat pasta in this fic. josie, i love u but don't silent treatment me again because of nummi because as you've seen i'm not a particularly good mime. mack, thanks for the commas and the love.

Isak is momentarily stunned. When he recovers about two seconds later, he quickly steps aside to let Even enter before he can start to look nervous again. “ _Ja_ , of course, come in.”

He gives himself another five seconds as Even walks into the apartment, five seconds to calm down, to come to terms with the fact that _yes_ , Even is back in his house, and he’s not entirely sure why, but he’s also one hundred percent not going to complain.

When he walks in further, Even is sitting on one of the couches playing with his own fingers. He looks tired, bags underneath his eyes. Still, he smiles again when Isak comes in.

“I got your message.”

“Good,” Isak says, and it sounds weird to his own ears.

“Thank the rest for me?”

“I will.”

It feels awkward, all of a sudden. Isak’s not sure what Even wants, whether he came here to talk or not. Even though they’re now in the same room, the distance that’s been between them the past couple of months feels almost tangible.

Isak shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do you want something? Tea? A shower?”

“Do I look that bad?” Even jokes and Isak rolls his eyes exasperatedly, shaking his head. Even’s smile grows a little bigger. “I missed that.”

“What?”

“You, pretending to be annoyed.”

“Well, Even —” he loses track of his thoughts momentarily when Even raises his eyebrows, eyes widening playfully, and he wants to tell Even he’s not exactly an actor now, is he, but that would be admitting defeat and yeah, no way. “I’m not pretending! And I’m the _best_ liar. I’m the master of lying. _Please_.”

“You’re saying I look like I haven’t showered in too long and we should fix that?”

“ _We_ shouldn’t do anything,” Isak corrects.

“I mean, since you’re _so_ insistent on me showering, I guess I’ll go do that.”

“I’m _not_ — whatever, go shower. I’ll get you something else to wear.”

“So now you’re commenting on my clothes?”

And just like that, it’s good again, Isak shoving Even’s shoulder and Even looking semi-shocked as he makes his way towards the bathroom. He can’t fight a smile as he walks to his own room and gets a t-shirt (and this time he specifically looks for the jesus t-shirt he recently stole from Eskild again) and sweatpants. Outside of the bathroom he lingers until he’s heard the shower spray for at least a minute before he knocks on the door and opens it a tiny sliver.

“You’re good,” Even snorts, looking around the shower curtain at Isak as he comes in. “I’m all hidden.”

If Isak were a braver person, he would’ve made a joke about how that’s really not what he was worried about, but in this universe he just shakes his head and drops the clothes unceremoniously on the closed toilet seat.

Even’s hair is all flat from the water, and Isak can’t help but think of the last time they saw each other. He feels a tingle going across his spine and quickly makes his way out of the bathroom again.

While he’s in the kitchen he debates whether or not to text his friends right now in hopes that they’ll give him proper advice before Even is out of the shower. He’s just considering how much time they will need to get over the fact that _yes, Even is back_ (and seeing as he himself hasn’t completely recovered yet, they’re probably going to take some time as well) and if that outweighs the amount of time Even is still gonna need, when he hears the front door open.

This time it _is_ Eskild, carrying a shitton of groceries with him.

“Well, Isak, a hand?” he says when Isak stares at him, stunned, for about five seconds straight.

They’re just unpacking the groceries in peace and Isak is practicing how he’s going to subtly bring the news that Even Bech Næsheim is in their shower, when Eskild, chatting away happily about something Isak isn’t paying attention to, takes the new tubes of toothpaste he bought and walks towards the bathroom to put them away.

“Wait—” Isak manages, hurrying after Eskild to stop him, but Eskild has already opened the door to the bathroom because he has _no_ sense of privacy.

“Isak, just because you’re so prudish doesn’t mean we all are. Linn doesn’t mind, right, Linn?”

Isak closes his eyes and hopes and prays and crosses both his fingers and his toes that Even will keep _quiet_.

Of course, Even doesn’t keep quiet.

“Not Linn,” his voice perks up over the shower. “But I don’t mind either.”

Eskild, to his credit, recovers a lot faster than Isak did. “Well, hello Even, very nice to hear from you again. Sorry that Isak is so rude to not tell me we were having someone over.”

“I was trying!” Isak sighs.

“You weren’t doing a very good job now, were you?” Eskild chastises him.

“To be fair, I kind of just… barged in,” Even adds, peeking around the shower curtain again.

“We’re glad you did, Isak has been so mop—”

“I think we should let Even shower in peace and leave this room now,” Isak says loudly before pulling Eskild out of the bathroom. “ _Bye_ Even.”

Isak lets out a relieved breath as soon as he’s shut the bathroom door again, only to realise once he follows Eskild back into the kitchen that he’s not done with this yet. Eskild is waiting for him, eyebrows raised, giving Isak a very clear _explain what’s going on_ look to which Isak at first just tries to answer by shrugging noncommittally and continuing to put away the groceries.

“You’re not explaining?”

“I don’t— There’s not much to explain. He just showed up,” Isak says. “What am I gonna do? Not let him in?”

“You hadn’t heard from the guy in months and now he’s suddenly in our shower?”

Isak sighs. Whatever — he gets what Eskild is getting at and he doesn’t think that’s fair to Even. Their whole radio silence situation _wasn’t_ his fault, it just wasn’t. And now—

“You saw that article?” he asks, lowering his voice a little even though he can still hear the shower down the hall.

Eskild sobers up a little, nods.

“It’s bullshit, obviously, but — I sent him a message after that. Just saying we were here for support and he should ignore the shit they wrote. Like, aren’t there laws against that kind of exposing? Can’t he sue for slander or something?”

“Only if it’s fake,” Eskild says and Isak must look as outwardly outraged as he feels at what Eskild is suggesting because he quickly adds, “I’m not saying it isn’t totally shitty what they’re saying about him, Isak. It is. It’s unfair and hateful and they _shouldn’t_ , but the truth is they are and they can, probably.”

“Fuck that.”

“Fuck that,” Eskild repeats with passion. He’s quiet for a moment, watching Isak with this slight frown on his forehead. Isak tries to hold eye contact for a moment but starts to squirm under the scrutiny.

“What?”

Eskild opens his mouth, hesitates and takes a deep breath before trying again. “Be careful. I know you’re doing good right now, okay? But I’ve watched you be sad and grumpy over this guy for the past while and I don’t like seeing you that way. I like Even and of course I want him to be okay, but I care about you more. So just — be careful, okay?”

Isak wants to roll his eyes and wave away what Eskild is saying, but something about the tone in his voice makes him decide against that. Because for all that he likes to complain about Eskild acting like he’s Isak’s parental figure, he knows he owes Eskild a lot and he knows Eskild gave him a place to stay and a home when he thought he lost that, and he knows Eskild only wants what’s best for him. He knows Eskild is trying to look out for him.

Eskild is worried and Isak realises he should probably consider the fact that that’s reasonable, that he doesn’t know what Even wants from him. But Even is here now and he can’t, he just can’t send him away. Not now, not after what happened. So he nods once, finally finishing with putting away the eggs.

“I will.”

It’s quiet for a moment.

“And it’s like, of course I don’t like seeing you unhappy but also, when you’re unhappy you start living off of pre-cooked meals and you don’t shower a lot and that’s gross. Kidding, it’s just really not healthy or any fun and it makes it difficult to see why we’re keeping you around. I’m kidding, we love you always. Except when you leave dirty cups of coffee in the sink for me to find in the morning.”

“I clean them!” Isak objects, but when Eskild fixes him with a look he adds, “Sometimes. Sometimes I clean them.”

“Yeah, we’re all blessed because of the hard labour you put in to keep this place habitable. Tell me, when was the last time you were on bathroom cleaning duty and actually did it?”

Isak is just about to tell a really horrible lie, but Even suddenly has impeccable timing and steps out of the bathroom looking all soft and home-y in Isak’s (Eskild’s) t-shirt and sweatpants, socked feet padding over to them as he rakes a hand through his half dry hair.

“Just like old times, I see,” Eskild says with a look at the t-shirt. “I hope that’s a clean one, Isak, because I haven’t seen you do laundry in—”

“It’s _clean_ ,” Isak says, face burning as he expertly avoids Even’s gaze. “I do laundry.”

“Sure you do, kiddo,” Eskild says. “Anyway, I’m out tonight, got myself a hot date, so don’t stay up and I hope you had dinner figured out because I don’t think Linn is gonna come and make you something.”

“I can probably whip something up,” Even suggests, leaning against the counter all casually, like he’s completely at home in this strange apartment that he’s been in once before for ten minutes, making jokes with Eskild, and Isak does have to take a moment right then and there to get both of his feet back on the ground.

Eskild leaves them then to go shower and change. Even ends up rummaging through Isak’s mostly empty shelves but finds a package of pasta and manages to make them something actually resembling a nice meal with some garlic, oil, and chillies. Eskild comes over after his shower to wish them both a good night and to have them compliment his new jacket (which they do, dutifully) and then leaves them to their own devices.

Something sags in Even’s posture after Eskild leaves. His bright smile dulls a little. He doesn’t look sad necessarily, just a little more tempered than before. It takes a moment for Isak to realise that this is Even letting his guard down for him now that they’re alone.

Isak suggests they eat on the couch so they can watch something on tv while they eat and Even agrees easily, handing Isak one bowl of pasta and a bowl of salad (which Isak had looked at with a frown until Even said “If you look that confused at seeing vegetables, you need to eat vegetables” which Isak didn’t really have a defence against).

So they sit and eat and Even makes them sit through the last twenty minutes of _Titanic_ , attempting to convince Isak that it’s a _great_ love story and a good movie.

“I mean, at least enjoy it for Leonardo,” Even says, pointing at the screen with his fork.  

“Da Vinci?” Isak frowns.

Even is quiet and Isak is just about to ask again when he notices Even staring at him with a slight frown. Then, he nods solemnly. “Yes. Correct. Da Vinci.”

At that, Isak’s attention immediately returns to the screen because what the fuck?

“That’s supposed to be Leonardo Da Vinci?” Isak asks again, staring at the movie. Something dramatic seems to be going on, this girl isn’t making space for Leonardo Da Vinci on her door or something, and it’s all really confusing in general, but Isak is just still hooked on the fact that that’s supposedly _Leonardo Da Vinci_ on a shipwreck in 1912.

“Yep.” Even nods.

“But— Leonardo Da Vinci _died_ in 1519, they can’t just _pretend_ he’s alive in 1912? What the fuck?”

“It’s called artistic license, Isak. James Cameron obviously had a very specific vision and sometimes you just need to suspend disbelief to see the true master at work.”

“No! What? You can’t just— that’s not _suspending disbelief_ — that is having no regard for believability! What the fuck, Even?”

“I mean, loads of people liked it, you know. Won an Academy Award.”

“This won an _Oscar_?”

Even nods seriously, but Isak sees something pull in his jaw and that—

“You’re lying?” he asks.

“It really did win an Oscar,” Even tells him with a straight face.

Isak rolls his eyes. “But that is not supposed to be Leonardo Da Vinci.”

“Isak, it’s a drama about the Titanic, not a sci-fi movie about a 16th century artist travelling forward in time,” Even says and he’s grinning so broadly now that it’s almost worth the heat rising to Isak’s cheeks.

“Fuck off,” he mutters.

“You _deserved_ that for not knowing that we’re looking at the ethereal beauty of young Leonardo DiCaprio!”

“It’s really dark on the screen! And he’s just lying there in the _dark_ water and it’s _night_ and _whatever her name is_ isn’t making room on that stupid door!” he says in an attempt to save some of his dignity, crossing his arms and muttering,  “I know who Leonardo DiCaprio is. This is a stupid movie.”

He’s makes it through another 10 seconds of stubbornly watching the movie until he dares another look at Even, who is looking at him again, and his smile is a little smaller but it’s almost fond now, and Isak’s heart does a stupid thing when he meets Even’s eyes.

They end up sitting with their backs against the armrests of the couch, legs pulled up so only their feet end up tangled in the middle. At some point Isak turned down the sound on the tv so it’s only background noise.

Isak allows himself to watch Even for a while. Curled up on the couch like this, now also wearing Isak’s grey hoodie and toying mindlessly with the strings, Even looks smaller than usual. His shoulders are a little hunched, his hair looks all soft from washing it earlier, and Isak thinks again that if he were a braver person he would reach over and touch it.

He’s not looking at Isak, eyes instead fixated on some spot on the wall, but Isak feels like he’s very far away

“The screenshots,” Even says then, and it almost startles Isak when his hoarse voice breaks the silence. “They’re real.”

They haven’t talked yet about why Even is here. Isak’s been a little afraid to breach the subject, unsure what to say, unsure of asking Even why he came _here_ of all places, after they hadn’t talked for months.

Now, Even finally looks at Isak, a little resigned, like he’s ready for Isak to send him away. And it’s true that it takes Isak aback — he’d just assumed that they must’ve been faked, but from the pained look in Even’s eyes something else must be going on.

Isak lets out a breath. “You don’t have to explain.”

“I want to explain.”

Isak waits a second before he nods and gets a nod from Even in return. He starts playing with the strings of the hoodie again, licking his cracked lips before he continues.

“They’re from my time at Bakka. I don’t have any of those accounts anymore, deleted them all after, but someone must have screenshotted them — or I know people have. People did at the time too. Who can blame them, right?”

Hearing that, Isak wants to scoff. _He_ blames them, whoever “they” are — but instead of letting Even know that he holds back, allowing Even to continue instead.

“I posted those messages during my first episode. Or the first official one, at least. It’s the one that led me to getting diagnosed with bipolar disorder,” Even swallows heavily, and Isak sees what he’s doing, trying to get through the lump in his throat. He presses his leg against Even’s, calf against calf, in a silent show of support. “Remember I told you about Mikael? How I had a crush on him like you had a crush on Jonas?”

Isak nods.

“He— well, I wasn’t really, I mean, I’d thought about it before and I’d always kind of… looked at boys as well as girls and it’d never really felt like a big deal? And then I got together with Sonja and that was good, but then suddenly with Mikael… I don’t know. It got so close, it felt more _real_ than when I was just looking from a distance, you know?”

And yeah, Isak _knows_. He knows about looking from a distance and what it did to him to suddenly have those feelings up close. He knows the shitty stuff he did because of it, because of how much it ate away at him, the feeling that he wasn’t able to deny it anymore.  

“And I’d been struggling and kind of trying to work through those feelings, and then I had the episode. I kissed him, while I was hypomanic. I don’t know how much you know about bipolar, but it was obviously not a well thought-through decision. And he— I mean, he wasn’t even mad at me, he was mostly confused, I think I must’ve been acting kind of strange in general and he’d already caught onto that.

“But anyway, even though he was really, like, chill about it, I couldn’t let it go. I got consumed with finding out _why_ he would’ve rejected me, and in the end my hypomanic brain decided to jump onto the fact that Mikael is kind of a religious guy. And it wasn’t even — there was _no_ reason for me to believe that _that_ was the reason. Anyway, I like… started obsessively studying the Koran and specifically the sections that talk about homosexuality. That’s when I posted that shit.”

He shoots Isak another careful look, and Isak hopes his face is the calm beacon he wants it to be because despite everything he can feel the anxiety radiating off of Even and he wants Even to _know_ that it’s okay.

“I crashed not long after. The high was quite high so the low was…” Even trails off. “I— If they hadn’t come back to me when they did, my friends, Mikael… I don’t know. I don’t know where I’d be. But they were there. Anyway,” he coughs. “I deleted basically all my social media after that and I haven’t really felt the need to start that whole shebang up again.”

“Except for Instagram,” Isak points out lightly.

Even’s eyes narrow slightly. “You stalking me now, Isak Valtersen?”

Isak thinks it’s probably a good sign that Even is joking with him again so he goes along with it, pressing a hand against his own chest in mock-outrage at the mere suggestion. “You think I stalk you myself? I have people for that.”

“Are they all called Magnus?”

“I’m telling him you said that and he’s going to be out of his mind happy that you remembered his name.”

They sit in silence for a while when Even’s smile fades a little again. Isak hates it when that happens. He just wants Even to be smiling and he wants the world to stop turning if that’s what it would take (even though he knows that that’s scientifically impossible and were it to happen they would probably all die quite soon which he doesn’t think would be very imperative to Even’s happiness).

“Thanks for explaining,” Isak says then, because he feels like Even deserves to hear that. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Even nods slowly. “I know. It sucks that they’re being used now. I mean, I should’ve expected it, probably. The internet is forever and all. I guess I just hoped it wouldn’t, that that part of my past could stay in the past. It took me a while to stop hating myself for it, and it just kind of feels like it’s all being torn open again, and now it’s there for everyone to see and judge. And I know that’s just a risk you take when you start appearing in the public image but I—”

“Even.”

Even’s rambling comes to a stop as Isak catches his eye.

“You’re allowed to feel shitty about people deciding for you what part of your past they’re showing to the world without your permission. I know you’ve probably thought about this a lot and what you’re saying is true but like…  you’re also allowed to feel _shit_ about this. That’s okay.”

“I feel like I’m being vain,” Even replies. “I just want people to like me. I want them to think I’m a good person.”

“You want people not to look at this thing that happened during a difficult period in your life and judge you off of that alone without knowing the context in which it happened. That isn’t fucking vain. It’s human decency you ask of them and those dicks from, what, _Hello! Magazine_ or whatever can’t even give you that. That’s on them.”

Even takes another long look at him before nodding again, and Isak isn’t sure if what he said mattered at all, but he still thinks it was important for Even to hear.

“You know,” he follows up, “Magnus offered to go beat them up. I’m sure if I call him now he’s got a plane booked within the hour.”

At that, Even huffs out a laugh, and Isak thinks he sees some tension leave his shoulders. “Magnus, my knight in shining armour.”

“Yeah, no way I’m telling him you said _that_.”

“Thanks for this, by the way,” Even says, looking around the living room. “Letting me stay. You didn’t have to do that either. I was just sitting at home and I couldn’t make sense of my thoughts and then I— I just needed a place.”

“You found it,” Isak replies softly and he hopes he doesn’t imagine the way Even’s knee presses a little closer against his.

They talk for a while longer, until Isak’s eyes start to get tired and he yawns three times in a row, causing Even to look at him with that fond expression on his face that does stupid things to Isak’s heart. It’s pleasantly stupid, though, and he’s gotten used to the way something seems to warm up inside of him every time Even looks at him like that.

“Right, so there’s a lock on the door of my room but even if you don’t lock it I promise you that Eskild won’t come barging in. Or like— I’ll try very very hard to keep him from accidentally jumping you because he’s drunk and wants to tell me about his date,” Isak says, grabbing an extra pillow and a blanket.

“What?” Even asks.

“I’m— It’s not as weird as it sounds,” Isak tries to explain. “He’s just enthusiastic and sometimes he doesn’t really understand the concept of personal space but I promise it’s not in a creepy way—”

“No,” Even interrupts him, “I don’t mean Eskild. I just don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”

“Because then you’ll know?” Isak frowns. “And like, I’ll be right out in the living room so I’ll probably see him first anyway. It’s fine.”

“Living room?”

“That’s where the couch is, Even.”

“You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

“I’m… not?”

“You think I’m making you sleep on the couch in your own house?”

“You think Magnus is gonna let me live when he hears I made you sleep on our shitty, too small couch?” Isak retorts.

“I’m not going to _exile_ you from your bed! I’m literally the one coming in here all inconvenient—”

“Not inconvenient,” Isak mutters.

Even raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “You’re telling me you having to sleep on your, and I’m quoting here, ‘shitty, too small couch’ would not be an inconvenience?”

Isak stares at him for what he realises is a second too long before he replies, “No.”

“Right. So then what? We just share the bed?” Even says and at that Isak feels himself freeze up as he tries to figure out whether that was a joke and he needs to now force himself to laugh or whether Even was _serious_ in which case he needs to go find a bucket of ice water to fling himself into.

Even isn’t laughing, though. When Isak finds the power to turn around and face him, he’s just waiting calmly. Or— he seems calm for about another five seconds before something in his expression falters and Isak realises he’s just been staring at Even with what must be pretty unconcealed panic in his eyes because as they’d already established: Isak is no actor.

“I mean—” Even backtracks. “Only if that’s something you’re fine with too. Like I said, I think that couch looks _really_ appealing, I really don’t mind, I’ll call Magnus personally and explain the situation to him so you won’t even have to fear for your life.”

Isak knows he’s gonna have to intervene so he clears his throat because the idea of being that close to Even makes his mouth feel kind of dry and his palms feel kind of sweaty. But _jesus christ_ he’s not going to pass up on the opportunity just because he feels like fainting, now is he?

“No, I’m— I’m fine. We can share the bed. That’s chill.”

It sounds like the biggest lie he’s ever told (or, he’s lied about some kind of big things in the past so maybe… maybe top ten, but at least no one will be able to say he doesn’t have an air for the dramatic) and he’s pretty sure Even knows that too.

“You sure?” Even asks, sounding unconvinced.

“I’m sure. It’s chill,” Isak repeats and this time he’s proud of how composed he sounds. “Besides, I don’t think anything would justify you sleeping on that couch for Magnus.”

They get ready for bed in silence. Even just keeps on the clothes Isak had already lent him and they brush their teeth in silence next to each other, which is really fucking awkward even though Isak understands that expecting either of them to hold a conversation with their mouths full of toothpaste foam isn’t really reasonable either.

“You have a side of the bed?” Even asks when they return to Isak’s room. He’s standing by the bed, observing the collection of outdated memes Isak takes pride in on his weaker days and knows he should probably get rid of the rest of the time.

In the meantime, Isak is lingering at his desk, pushing some books around as a way of pretending he’s still busy and unable to come to bed yet because he’s just not sure what to do when he gets there and he may not be a master of lying but he _is_ a master of avoidance.

“Right,” Isak replies. “I usually sleep on the right.”

He thanks all the stars he knows that he put away the roll of toilet paper that makes its way to his bedside table on a semi-regular basis, because he doesn’t think he would have made it through the rest of the night if Even had noticed that and made any mention of it.

“Cool,” and then there’s the sound of Even flopping down on the bed.

There comes a point when Isak has moved all the books on his desk from the left to the right and he’s cleared up all the random pens and pencils thrown about and he’s scribbled _buy stuff_ on a post-it that he can’t keep on going anymore without it being weird.

With his stomach filled with tension, every nerve in his body yelling at him, he turns around to find Even sitting on the left side of the bed, back against the wall, the book on parallel universes in his lap. Isak slowly makes his way over and Even doesn’t look up once, but Isak also doesn’t see his eyes move across the page at any point as he crawls under the duvet next to Even.

He lies down on his side, staring at Even, who at this point really should’ve turned a page to keep up pretence but he hasn’t, prompting Isak to ask, “Interesting?”

Even slowly looks away from the book. “Yeah, very.”

“Illuminating, right?”

“Hmhmm.”

“You must be really sorry you went with that book on mining geology.”

And at that, Even promptly closes the book and leans over Isak to put it back on the nightstand. Isak momentarily forgets how to breathe or think as Even hovers over him, body heat radiating off of him, and part of Isak hopes he moves back and part of Isak hopes he decides to stay close, but then Even slowly leans away again, instead lying down next to Isak so they’re facing each other.

Isak realises this is one of those moments he should find extremely uncomfortable seeing as he’s a generally anxious person and silences lasting longer than five seconds make him nervous, as do beautiful boys in his bed.

He doesn’t know if it’s weird, how they’ve been apart for months and yet it feels like they have very little trouble growing back towards each other in one evening. Sure, Isak is nervous, but he’s always been nervous around Even because he _likes_ Even.

In the back of his mind he can hear Eva’s voice ask him: but do you _like_ like him?

He does.

He really, really does.

It’s something about the way that _yeah he’s nervous_ but at the same time Even’s presence always manages to calm something in Isak’s mind, like he doesn’t have to worry about keeping up pretence anymore. It’s something about the way Even seems to fit so well in Isak’s life, the way it looks like the space in the bed seems to have been cut out specifically for him. It’s something about the way Even’s eyes are roaming his face like they’re drinking in every detail, like they _want_ to know every detail, lingering on his lips for a moment longer.

It’s something about the way that, when Even slowly reaches out, Isak wants to lean into to the touch rather than lean away, allowing Even’s fingers to trace his cheekbones, his temple, his eyebrow, to card through his hair languidly.

If it wasn’t for the lick of fire he feels wherever Even touches him, Isak thinks he could fall asleep right here and right now, and for a boy with incessant insomnia that’s saying a lot.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” the words are out before he’s really considered them (turned them over 20 different ways in his head, figured out all the ways Even could interpret them and created fitting scenarios for each one).

The hand in his hair stills for a moment and Even’s expression possibly softens even more.

His eyes seem to shine even brighter in the soft light of Isak’s night light, but it takes him a moment to realise that’s not just some magical feat of Even’s but rather has something to do with the wetness in his eyes.

“I really want to kiss you,” Even whispers then, an echo of an exchange they had before.

“You should,” Isak replies, because he knows this script.

When he sees Even hesitate still, he scoots just that little bit closer himself so their chests are almost touching and his own hand finds its way to Even’s neck, curling around it carefully as he pulls Even closer.

Last time they kissed, time seemed to speed up.

This time around, it slows down.

They kiss and they kiss and they kiss and Isak feels like they have all the time in the world. It’s like he’s been walking around with something heavy for so long that he had become used to the weight, and it’s only now that it’s lifted off of him that he realises how much it was weighing him down.

They kiss until they’re too tired to really aim properly anymore, Even’s lips pressed against the corner of Isak’s mouth, causing Isak to huff out a laugh. They find themselves tangled up, Isak’s head tucked against Even’s chest so he can feel it rise and fall slowly, Even’s hand carding through Isak’s hair again. At some point, it stills and Even’s breathing evens out, and Isak revels in the warmth he feels spreading through his entire body.

 _It’s nice_ , he thinks sleepily to himself, _this kind of happiness_.

—

The next morning, he’s awoken by the feeling of kisses against his cheek and the smell of scrambled eggs. When he cracks open an eye, he finds Even sitting next to him, looking all perky and just way too awake for whatever hour in the morning it is, a tray with eggs and orange juice next to him on the bed.

“Did you steal juice?” Isak mutters, half of his face still mushed against the pillow in what must be a really really unattractive look, though judging by the happy look on Even’s face he doesn’t seem to care one bit.

“No, I was _lent_ juice by your lovely roommates, who totally appreciated that we kept it quiet last night,” Even replies as he reaches over to pour the orange juice into two glasses.

“We didn’t even—” Isak groans before turning his face further into the pillow because entertaining that thought any further makes his face feel all warm and tingly.

He proceeds to poke at Isak’s shoulder softly, possibly in an attempt to get him to actually sit up. Isak, in turn, is _not feeling that_ , like, at all, because his place under the duvet is nice and warm and he has this rule in life about not leaving that space unless he absolutely has to.

When Even keeps up the poking, Isak groans again before scooting over towards Even and pillowing his head on Even’s thigh, burying his head against the t-shirt that is his (or Eskild’s) but now, he finds, pleasantly smells like Even.

“I’m asleep,” he declares, voice muffled.  

“Please, please, please get up,” Even says, voice close to Isak’s ear. “I made really good eggs and I want you to enjoy them while they’re hot.”

“I’m _asleep_.”

“I can’t kiss you like this.”

And, well, hm, that’s an interesting piece of information that he hadn’t thought of before. Something to consider, even for Isak’s sleepy mind. He shivers when he feels Even’s cold hand sneak underneath his t-shirt as it starts tracing vague patterns on his back and Isak isn’t sure whether he’s writing something and Isak is just too drowsy to figure it out or whether it’s nonsense.

“If I turn on my back you can kiss me,” Isak suggests.

“No I can’t,” Even replies lightly, “I’m not that flexible.”

“Good to know.”

“Cheeky.”

(Kissing ensues after some more sneaky poking of Isak’s stomach and Even laughing at him with that laugh that makes Isak feel like he’s floating.)

—

There’s a snowstorm that day, because it’s winter and it’s Norway. Not that either of them really mind as it proves to be an excellent excuse for the two of them to spend the day hauled up in Isak’s room. Eskild tries knocking twice but basically gives up on trying to lure Isak out of there after that.

They’re in a bubble again and the bubble is this apartment, this room. As long as Isak keeps Even inside of it, he can protect him. As long as they stay here, they won’t have to think about complicated things, about _after_ and about _leaving_.

“I’m sorry about how everything happened last time,” Even tells him at some point. “Everything was just so busy. It wasn’t meant to be a way to like, a way to blow you off.”

They’re lying on the bed together, Isak’s head resting on Even’s chest, his heart beating steadily against Isak’s ear.

“It’s okay,” Isak mutters and he feels like the words come out a little more slowly than usual, his thoughts a little slowed down like he’s just smoked a joint only he’s not actually high. He feels a guilt crawl into his stomach as Even says those words, blaming himself for something Isak knows he had a heavy hand in too. “I kind of…” he blows out a long breath and he wants to explain that that was actually what he’d been afraid of, but he doesn’t want to make Even feel worse, not right now, so he changes course. “I get it. It just happened.”

They talk about everything and nothing and it’s funny, it’s so funny (only Isak doesn’t laugh about it, instead just registers the way his chest grows and fills with warmth) that Isak usually has the hardest time connecting with people. If he thinks about his closest friends now he can’t really remember _how_ exactly they got to this point. He can remember the moment before they were friends, and he knows how comfortable he is around them now, but the space in between is like a gap, a dark space that Isak isn’t sure if he just doesn’t remember or he’s just blocked because the things he said were too awkward.

The difference with Even is that he is hyper aware of every moment, only not in a bad, anxiety-inducing way, more like he’s just able to let himself witness this unfolding of conversation instead of being so caught up in his own head the whole time. Everything Even tells him is equally interesting to Isak.

He thinks this might be different from anything that’s ever happened with any other person, and for once he doesn’t feel like he needs to tear it apart so it makes sense. He can just let it be.

And it’s not only that he wants to know everything about Even, he wants Even to know about him and when at some point he comes to explain how he came to live at the kollektiv, it’s almost natural how he comes to talk about his parents too. He realises that this is the first time he’s telling someone this story after the whole thing went down, to someone who wasn’t _there_ with him.

He talks about how hard  it was after his dad left and it stings less than it once did to get those words past his lips. It’s still difficult to make sense of the conflicting feelings of resentment and guilt that he feels whenever he thinks about that time. He hates thinking about how taking care of his mum made him resent _her_ for a while.

“That sounds like an intense thing to go through, especially when you’re so young,” Even says softly when Isak falls quiet. “Taking care of your mum like that.”

“It weighed on me. Messed me up for a long time,” Isak tries to joke, even though it’s true. “I’ve got abandonment issues now.”

Even just looks at him with that little frown that Isak wants to smooth away.

“And I left her,” Isak feels forced to add after a moment.

“You came back, though.”

That’s true, and even if it doesn’t completely dissolve the feeling of guilt in his chest, it does temper it a little.

“You don’t have to do everything right all at once,” Even continues. “It’s about learning, and sometimes that takes a while. Especially when you’re young.”

“Is that why you stayed with Sonja for so long?” Isak asks and he’s not entirely sure where the question comes from but the moment he says it he realises that’s something that he’s been stuck with for a while now.

Even has taken to doing this thing where he cards slowly through Isak’s hair and it might be Isak’s new favourite thing in the whole entire world. Sometimes he’ll just hum to let Even know that he’s still listening even if his eyes are closed and all his limbs feel heavy, but Even stays quiet for a while.

“Yeah. Maybe. I think I may have been too harsh about her that night at Mahdi’s restaurant. Or — that’s not the whole story, at least. It wasn’t bad all the time, and she stayed with me when things got tough. Not a lot of people would have done the same. It just got to this point where she felt more of a responsibility towards me than anything else and even that I can— I can _get_ , you know?”

Isak can feel the deep sigh that follows ruffle his hair a little. He finds one of Even’s hands with his own, tangling their fingers together.

“But it’s like we got too close to see what was really happening and it made both of us feel like shit. Breaking up with her was probably one of the scariest things I’ve ever done.”

“Why?” Isak asks softly, tilting his head up.

“Because she stuck with me, for all that she was controlling she was also a safety net. And I was afraid that maybe she would be the only one willing to be with me. Being with me isn’t easy. It’s really fucking hard sometimes. It made me afraid how much I understood people not wanting to go for that.”

Something lights in Isak’s chest and he wants to protest, loudly, tell Even that he’s wrong even though he’s aware that Even probably knows that, rationally, himself. It feels wrong to stay quiet.

“I’m here,” he says, and it comes out as a whisper but it’s loud enough inside of their bubble.

When he finds Even’s eye, there’s a strange mix of wonder and sadness there, and he squeezes the hand he’s still holding softly, getting a squeeze and a smile in return.

—

They make cheese toasties that afternoon when Isak deems the coast clear after he hears Eskild yell something about going out, and Isak insists on putting cardamom on them in honour of his fake job.

“I feel like all really good movies have this _moment_ , like, a capital m Moment where you’re supposed to feel goosebumps and everything just _fits_ , not just within the narrative but also for you, personally?” Even says as he slices the cheese.

Isak wants to say something about the fact that he probably doesn’t watch a lot of movies that Even would consider _good_ and so that’s not a feeling he really recognises, but then he thinks about watching Even’s movie and he remembers that moment where he felt like his heart was somewhere in his throat and he thinks that actually, yeah, he might understand. He nods.

“I’m working on all these new projects and I just can’t get them to have a Moment like that. The scripts aren’t bad and it’s not like I’m completely out of inspiration or something, but there just isn’t that moment that feels like it really _clicks_ and it’s really frustrating.”

Even finishes the toasties and turns to Isak, walking over to where Isak is sitting on the counter to stand between his legs. For a while, he just stands there, and Isak is fine with letting him look as long as he wants as long as he can see that smile grow.

“Maybe I’ll make a movie about you,” Even says, when their noses are almost touching from how close they are. One of his hands is on Isak’s thigh and the other on his waist and it’s horribly distracting. “That would probably be a lot easier.”

“Hm?” Isak  tilts his head up a little.

“Because,” Even says, cupping Isak’s neck and leaning in to meet him a for a kiss, “when I’m with you, I feel like that. Like everything just fits.”

—

“This is ridiculous, you can’t keep this in,” Isak says, shaking his head. They’re sitting at the kitchen table, both with tongue-burningly hot cheese toasties, in front of Even’s laptop.

“Why not?” Even asks, pretending to be offended.

“Because, Even, all the science is bullshit. You can’t drop things in space. That’s like, the whole thing about space.”

Isak shakes his head, cheese toastie in his one hand as he uses the other to scroll through the word document currently open.

“I’m out here, dipping my toes into the sci-fi genre and this is the kind of backlash I’m getting?”

“Well, if you’re gonna do sci-fi, you need to do it well!”

“No one’s gonna care, you know? They’re only gonna care about how emotionally attached they feel to these wonderful characters that I’ve created.”

“ _I’ll_ care! This is fake,” Isak mutters with his mouth full, highlighting a part of dialogue. “They can’t be yelling in space.”

“But people talk in space all the time!”

“There’s no sound in space, Even. People can talk through radios but if I remember correctly you destroyed their radio two pages ago for what, dramatic effect?”

Even’s silence is extremely telling and results in an eye roll on Isak’s side.

“Maybe sci-fi just isn’t for me.”

“Maybe you should just do your research.”

“Isn’t that what I have you for?”

And fuck that, Even shouldn’t be sounding so smooth or smug or charming because even as he rolls his eyes again Isak can feel the blush rising to his cheeks.

—

“I wish I could just stay here with you forever.”

They’re lying on one of the kollektiv’s couches, watching muted commercials on tv, Isak’s head against Even’s chest, Even’s arm is wrapped around him, fingers stroking along the sliver of bare skin where Isak's shirt has hitched up a little. 

There’s a silence and Isak — he can’t help himself. Because yes, Even could stay there with him but he’s not going to, and now that the hours they have remaining seem to pass faster than ever. And he can’t live with himself if he refuses to bring this up again.

“You’re leaving again.”

“I am.”

It comes out almost like a whisper, like Even understands that if he says it too loudly, it’ll burst the bubble. Whatever there is between them feels fragile. Like there’s a make-or-break point and Isak isn’t sure which way they’re going to take it.

It’s quiet. Isak knows _he_ knows what he wants. He’s in too deep, been in too deep since Even showed up on his doorstep again.

He’s just afraid that Even doesn’t want that too. Even after this weekend, even after the kisses and the quiet moments and the touches, he’s scared. Part of him wishes Even could just do the heavy lifting and say all the things Isak wants him to say, just so Isak doesn’t have to push through his nerves himself.

But maybe, he realises when the silence lasts and Even tangles and untangles their fingers, the heavy _tadumtadumtadum_ of his heartbeat in Isak’s ear, maybe, maybe, maybe, Even is afraid too.

So Isak takes a breath and he takes a leap, pushing himself off Even chest so he can look him in the eye.

“I want to try this again. For real this time. I know it’s not going to be easy and we’re both— we’re living really different lives and maybe we’ll fuck it up anyway but I want to— I don’t want to let this go,” he stumbles a little, voice shaky, definitely not as smooth as he’d like to have been, but the words are out there.

Even looks at him, and looks at him, and looks at him, and it seems to last for hours ages, but then he lets out a breath that Isak thinks sounds like relief.

“I want that too.”

The tension seeps out of Isak’s shoulders.

 _They’re good_.

“So, we’re doing this,” Isak says, though maybe it comes out a little too much like a question. “You’re not going to make any sci-fi movies without my specific approval of the script and we’re doing this.”

Even huffs but his eyes are sparkling and he’s happy so Isak is happy. “You want to pinky-swear on it?”

No.

Isak doesn’t want to pinky-swear on it.

Instead, he pulls Even in and kisses him. Even seems happy to oblige.

—

When Even leaves after the weekend, he leaves Isak with a lot of kisses and touches to think about and a renewed sense of hope.

This time, they’re gonna work harder. They’re gonna be better. He knows they can do it.

And they _do_ do it.

Throughout the day, Isak isn’t worried about Even texting him anymore because he texts constantly — even if Isak is unavailable because of work (as if that’s ever been a real excuse) he’ll send memes and small notes, a picture of something that reminded him of Isak and it feels absolutely wonderful.

They call and Even makes him watch movies that Isak would never enjoy on his own but kind of loves now because it means he gets to hear Even’s excited voice talk him through cinematography and storytelling devices and he gets to hear Even’s amused huff when Isak points out something illogical.

Even when they don’t talk every day, like the past week, it’s okay. Of course, Isak misses the messages but he knows they’re both living their lives and tries to keep up a steady stream of small updates about his own life, inquiries as to how Even is doing, a _goodnight <3 _ just so Even knows Isak is _in this_ with him. He’s not giving up so easily this time.

—

It’s a Sunday, a couple of weeks after Even’s left again that Isak finds himself scrolling through his Netflix recommended list aimlessly, in his head counting back the timezones to figure out if it’s an okay time to call Even when his phone buzzes and his heart jumps.

 _Think of the devil_.

When he starts reading, he feels like a cold hand has reached into his chest and is currently squeezing his insides. Like there’s some icy fluid in his lungs making it harder to breath. His vision fogs over for a moment, out of focus. There’s a strange buzz in his ears as he forces himself to read the actual words until the end.

 

> **Even:** Hi Isak, I’m sorry it’s been a bit quiet. With everything that’s been going on, working on the new movie and everything, I’m not sure if this is something I’m ready for right now. I’m sorry, I know this is my fault. Hope you’re okay. Even

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading <3 
> 
> come talk to me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/jostvns) or [tumblr](http://minjard.tumblr.com)!


	7. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak notices the worried looks Eskild keeps giving him. It’s pretty hard not to notice them. He wants to say something, tell Eskild to stop with the looks already — he knows this is his own fault, he doesn’t need a lecture — but he’s just too fucking tired. He’s tired all the time. And he kind of doesn’t think Eskild wants to give him a lecture, he thinks Eskild wants to feel bad for him and to be completely honest, Isak has more than enough pity for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay y'all... let's just say. this is gonna be a process. (also i'm not gonna lie i'm lowkey a little more nervous to post this chapter than i was posting the earlier ones) 
> 
> all the comments are so so nice to read so thank you for everyone that left one on any of the previous chapters <3 
> 
> hey josie, happy valentine's day (you're the trophy) <3 and hey julia, if i say croquet cricket cricket will u tell me which is which?

Isak notices the worried looks Eskild keeps giving him. It’s pretty hard _not_ to notice them. He wants to say something, tell Eskild to stop with the looks already — he _knows_ this is his own fault, he doesn’t need a lecture — but he’s just too fucking tired. He’s tired all the time. And he kind of doesn’t think Eskild wants to give him a lecture, he thinks Eskild wants to feel bad for him and to be completely honest, Isak has more than enough pity for himself.

Maybe he just wants a reason to lash out.

Maybe Eskild knows that.

Which is why, when he finally gets enough and tells Eskild to _stop fucking staring, please_ , every muscle in his body tenses, Eskild doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t try to deny it.

“I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need you to tell me you told me so,” Isak forces out.

They’re in the kitchen and Isak is angrily cutting up a sandwich. He can practically feel Eskild looking at him and it’s making him want to jump out of his skin.

“Isak, I don’t want to tell you that,” Eskild replies.

Isak scoffs, and this fucking knife isn’t working. Why don’t they just have good, sharp knives that can manage to cut through fucking bread?

“Right, sure you don’t,” he manages and then just gives up, throws the knife into the sink and swiftly moves past Eskild to his room, closing the door behind him maybe a little bit too loudly.

He doesn’t feel any better once he’s inside. He’s not even hungry anymore, so he just stands there with his sandwich in the middle of the room for what feels like hours.

When Eskild knocks on the door like Isak knew he would, Isak doesn’t even have the energy to tell him to go away. Isak is lying on bed now, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t acknowledge Eskild when he comes in because he wants to make it clear he’s still in a mood and it’s at Eskild’s own risk if he wants to enter this space and be subjected to that.

Isak expects him to start talking, say something to try and make Isak feel better despite him being a complete dick to Eskild just now, and it’s already making him feel worse about himself, guilt pooling in his stomach, but Eskild just sits down on the floor next to Isak’s bed, setting a cup of tea on Isak’s bedside table.

And then they just sit there in silence. The longer it lasts, the less angry and the more defeated Isak feels.

“I just—” he tries at some point. “I know I should’ve seen that coming. You told me I should. And I know I can’t really blame him but I fucking— I don’t understand, you know?”

His fingers trace the outline of his phone, lying next to him on the bed. He can recite the text by heart. He knows where every punctuation mark is.

> **Even:** Hi Isak, I’m sorry it’s been a bit quiet. With everything that’s been going on, working on the new movie and everything, I’m not sure if this is something I’m ready for right now. I’m sorry, I know this is my fault. Hope you’re okay. Even

There’s capitals and commas and full stops like he’s put a lot of thought into the message which only makes Isak feel worse because it’s such a _bullshit_ message. How do you end such a message with _hope you’re okay_ ? Like Isak is gonna be _okay_ after a message like that.

It’s so out of the blue that Isak wants to believe something else is going on. In his more desperate moments, when he’s still awake at four am and just watches the minutes on the clock pass by, he thinks maybe Sonja got ahold of Even’s phone and she sent the message pretending to be him. Maybe, he thinks, maybe Even has no idea of what’s happened because Sonja deleted the message again and now Even thinks Isak is ignoring him again. Still, he can never actually bring himself to type a reply.

It’s just that it so doesn’t resonate with the Even he had with him not that long ago. The one that looked at Isak like he was looking at an entire universe in front of him. The one that asked Isak in a whisper whether they could stay right here forever.

Isak likes to understand how things work. And he realises that people aren’t the same as formulas and cycles but part of him wants to try and see them like that anyway. Like something he can unravel if he just applies enough logic. And he thought, he _thought_ he was starting to understand Even, but this doesn’t compute. It just doesn’t fucking fit.

And yet here they are.

“I know,” Eskild says softly and Isak swallows audibly, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I know it hurts right now. Broken hearts always do. But this is going to pass and you’re going to feel better. I know that’s difficult to believe right now. But it will.”

Isak isn’t sure if that makes him feel any better, because it feels like all he has left right now is the ache in his chest whenever he thinks of Even and if losing that means Even really fading out of his life, he’s not sure he wants it.

On the other hand, the ache really fucking sucks too.

“Yeah,” he says, but it comes out as a whisper.

“We’re here with you, okay?”

Isak hums. He doesn’t think he can get any more words out. He can hear Eskild get up from the floor and walk to the door where he waits for a moment, shuffles around a little.

“You deserve someone that sticks around,” Eskild tells him then, and it’s almost stupid how quickly he wants to jump to Even’s defence, but Eskild has already closed the door behind himself and Isak is alone again.

—

The rest of winter passes in a rush of happenings. It’s funny that during the holiday season, even the sales in his little shop picks up, making him actually busy for once. It feels good, keeping busy. Keeps his mind from thinking about other things (Even).

He meets up with his mum during Christmas and they cook together. She’s way more impressed than she should be when he actually grabs a cutting board and follows her example, carefully cutting carrots into small (uneven) pieces. They get through almost the entire evening without her asking him why he’s sad but when she finally does, he feels brave enough to tell her.

“I liked a boy. And it didn’t work out. So… yeah.”

It’s been years since he came out to her and it still feels a little alien to tell her this sort of stuff and not have to worry any more. Back then, he wasn’t even brave enough to tell her in real life, instead he sent a text and then turned off his phone for two days straight until Magnus, Mahdi, and Jonas turned up on his doorstep to find out whether he had “died in a ditch somewhere.” But when he turned on the phone again, the boys all around him, hands on his shoulders in support, it was fine.

It wasn’t just fine. It was good.

The intense fucking relief that came with telling his mother and it being alright… Because with her, he cared. Fuck his dad, fuck whatever he thought, Isak basically told him out of spite (which, looking back on it, probably wasn’t the most healthy coping mechanism either, but damn did it feel good at the time). But with her, he wanted her to be okay with it. Because if she was okay with this, _they_ would be okay. Together.

He remembers not being able to hold back the wetness in his eyes when he got the text back from her and the boys all clapping him on the shoulder, Jonas smiling happily at him as he pressed a beer into his hand.

Now, when his mother gets up and wraps him up in a warm, enveloping hug, he lets out a shaky breath, taking a second before hugging her back and revelling in the comfort.

He thinks that might be the first moment he feels steady in weeks.

—

New Year’s is spent with his friends, and he downs two glasses of champagne in quick succession to keep himself from thinking about kissing Even at midnight. Later, when he’s dazedly staring at Even’s contact information in his phone (he still can’t get himself to delete it) and seriously considers just calling, he realises that may not have been the best decision.

He almost hits the button, just to see what would happen, whether Even would pick up. Probably not. He probably has better things to do. Better people to celebrate with. Maybe he’s at some fancy party. Isak doesn’t even know whether he’s with his family or his friends.

 _Of course you don’t know_ , he thinks to himself, _why would you?_

His finger hovers over the call button.

It’s probably good that Jonas arrives at that very moment, wrapping an arm around Isak’s shoulders and pulling him into their little circle of friends so they can all count down to zero together.

_10, 9, 8, 7._

Eva circles his waist, pulling him closer to her, while she raises her glass of champagne higher with her other hand.

 _6, 5, 4_.

He looks around the group. Everyone is red in the face from the alcohol and the cold and the excitement. Then, he looks at the sky, where the first fireworks in the distance are being shot up in the sky preemptively.

 _3, 2, 1_.

When they reach zero, the screams of _Happy new year!_ around him deafening, the feeling of Eva kissing his cheek happily, and Isak closes his eyes. He quietly promises himself that when the next year arrives, he’s going to be done with the pining.

As it turns out, drunken promises to himself don’t really hold up when he’s not like, drunk off his ass anymore. Every time he thinks it’s gonna be okay, thinks he’s finally feeling better about the whole thing, Magnus will send something over the group chat about Even being spotted in a cafe typing a script, or he’ll just be trying to get himself on the weird part of youtube by clicking through his recommendations and he’ll end up watching Even give an interview and then he’ll see that _smile_ again and he’s just. He’s so not fucking over it.

“I think… I don’t know. I feel like I’m very much a, a different sides of the spectrum kind of guy. Like on the one hand I’m totally a romantic gestures kind of person and I watch _Love, Actually_ every Christmas but at the same time I love the quiet stuff. Maybe because my brain can feel like such a mess, I just have so many ideas and things I want to do all the time, and if someone else can make me feel quiet that’s… That’s something,” Even’s voice is telling him from the speakers. He quickly exits the window.

He tells Eskild this during game night  — a concept that Eskild instated in the name of flat spirit. Isak doesn’t really understand why they need to raise flat spirit, but every time he tries to ask Eskild, Eskild not so smoothly changes the subject. Game nights, however, turn out not to be that bad because after the first night, Eskild tries to get them to play Settlers of Catan and he ends up losing hard core, he decides game nights are way better spent getting slightly tipsy together and yelling at the Kardashians on tv. Isak isn’t sure if he thinks that’s an improvement, but at least there’s alcohol involved now.

One night, when Linn has stated that she’s not interested in watching the launch of another dramatic new clothing line and retreats to her room early (Eskild protests at first but lets her go in the end), he drowsily and a little drunkenly mentions the fact that he still dreams of a certain director’s perfect quiff of hair on a way too regular basis.

When he looks away from the television, Eskild is looking at him intently, a little frown on his face. It’s almost like he’s trying to figure something out and Isak kind of wants to ask what, but right when he opens his mouth, he gets distracted by one of the girls on the tv bursting into tears and when he looks at Eskild again, he has schooled his face into something more calm again. Maybe Isak just imagined it. Maybe it’s the dusty vodka Eskild shoved in front of him earlier, only telling Isak _after_ he had downed the shot that he found it in the back of a storage room at work (“I had to take it! For the sake of professionality!”). Can vodka go off?

—

The thing is, Isak _wants_ to be annoyed that Even wormed his way into Isak’s head and life the way he did. It shouldn’t have been this big of a deal, he tries to remind himself — they went out only a couple of times, it’s not like they ever actually talked about being more than that, not _really_ (he ignores the _can I just stay here with you_ and the _you make me feel like everything fits_ ). If it had been anyone else he liked a lot, Isak would have been sad, sure, but he wouldn’t still be off about it literal months later.

But it’s not anyone else.

It’s _Even._

He knows his friends are worried about him. He knows he should probably talk to them, that talking about his fucking feelings will help, but he just wants to leave the whole ordeal behind him and at this point it feels like it’s too late. And you know, isn’t the best way to get rid of Even in his head is just thinking about him as little as possible.

So he casually avoids questions about how he’s doing from Jonas and tunes out Magnus whenever he brings up Even, ignores all the looks Jonas and Mahdi shoot each other whenever that happens anyway. He makes Sana meet up with him in a coffee bar instead of him coming to her place as they’d previously agreed, because he doesn’t want to risk running into Sana’s brother (pay you no mind he hasn’t actually ever met the guy before, he just knows Elias knows _Even_ and that’s enough to make him want to stay away).

One afternoon in February, he gets kebab with Jonas and he’s so caught up in his thoughts that he trips and drops the entire kebab. There’s a moment he just stares at the scene in front of him. He doesn’t know why spilling food is suddenly making something pull in his chest, and something burn behind his eyes. It’s just food, for fuck’s sakes.

It’s only when Jonas squats down next to him to help him clean up and asks quietly, “Dude, what’s going on?” that he considers it may just not be about the kebab.

They sit down in the park and Jonas shares his food with Isak but stays quiet, waiting patiently and Isak… he considers just saying he had a bad night, or saying something about the store, but when he looks up and finds Jonas looking at him so earnestly, he almost can’t help it anymore. He spills everything.

After, he thinks it’s probably ironic that he tells Jonas about the whole thing on the same bench where he finally decided to come out. His fingers trace the cracks in the paint as he waits for Jonas to say something. The winter cold is making him sniffy, despite the beanie and scarf he’s wearing.

In the end, Jonas lets out a sigh. “Hm… And you didn’t really ask any more questions after that last text?”

“What was there to ask? It’s not like he owes me an explanation. And like, he just said he wasn’t ready for this or something. Fuck, I don’t even know what _this_ would have been.”

“No, okay,” Jonas concedes, “I get that you can’t force him to explain more. But you could’ve asked. I know it doesn’t really matter now but I just thought… because you said you felt like it was so out of nowhere, you know? But I get it, I guess. It’s like… he can’t just keep on playing with you, coming and going whenever he likes. You should be with someone that’s actually there. I mean not, not physically per se, though that helps but like, you need to be there for each other, right?”

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? Because that’s practically exactly what Eskild had told him too. But while he was _with_ Even, he never got that feeling, that Even was just there to have some fun while he was around, only to leave again later. Maybe he’s just naive to think that because he felt their moments together so profoundly, Even did too.

But still.

This is Even they’re talking about. Even, who claims _Pretty Woman_ is one of the best films he’s ever seen. Even, who made them jump into a pool to recreate one of his favourite movie scenes. It just doesn’t fucking add up.

He says none of this to Jonas, though, just nods.

“Maybe you should still ask him,” Jonas says then.

“What?” Isak frowns.

“You still have his number right?”

Isak is not sure whether to be proud of Jonas for knowing him so well or to be embarrassed because he still hasn’t found it in himself to delete Even’s number from his contacts because apparently he loves torturing himself but hey — what else is new. He nods again.

“So,” Jonas takes another bite of kebab and shrugs. “Just text him. Fuck social conventions.”

 _Fuck social conventions_ , yeah, okay, Jonas, nice joke but tell that to Isak’s anxiety. He can’t just text Even now asking for an explanation, right? It’s been literal months since that text and he hadn’t even responded to that one. That would be so weird. If he were Even and he would get a message from himself _months_ later, he would be so weirded out.

No way.

There’s just no way he can do that.

Nope.

—

A couple of days later, Eskild knocks on his half-open door, looking strangely nervous.

Now, Eskild isn’t usually one to look nervous, so that immediately makes some alarm bells in Isak’s head go off. He’d just been scrolling through a page of some new book releases he’s looking into getting for the store and pointedly ignoring Magnus’s question about whether he should download Grindr to make friends.

When he hears the knock on his door, he just grumbles something knowing that it doesn’t matter what he’ll say: Eskild will take it as an invitation to come in anyway. But instead of immediately barging in and plopping down next to Isak on the bed, Eskild lingers in the doorway which is… suspicious.

Isak frowns at him.

“What?” he asks flatly.

Eskild hesitates for another moment before coming in, closing the door behind him. There’s something about the calculating look on his face that makes Isak give him his full attention.

“Okay, I need to tell you something. And I need you to know beforehand that I did it with your best interest at heart.”

“Eskild, if you ate my snacks again you better replace them because I didn’t spend my hard earned—”

“No, that’s not it. But you _could_ just use that hard earned money on something like, I don’t know, carrots, just once in a while. Or you could contribute to flat living and actually buy toilet paper for once instead of just making Linn and me do it every time.”

“Eskild—”

“ _Nei_ , nevermind, just… Listen for a moment, okay? And _remember_ that I was coming from a good place. As your guru, you know? Because I’m supposed to look out for you. So that’s what I was doing.”

This doesn’t sound like it’s going somewhere good, and something nervous starts to stir in Isak’s stomach. He watches as Eskild’s shifts his weight from one foot to the other and then sits on the foot of the bed, smoothing out a part of Isak’s rumpled covers.

“So you know Even?”

“I— Yes. Yes, Eskild, I know Even,” he replies resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Okay, so a couple of months ago, you weren’t home and you’d forgotten your phone, which is, you know, a really risky thing for a technology-obsessed kid such as yourself, but — no, right, anyway, you’d forgotten your phone and it was lying on the kitchen table and it started ringing, so I, being the good flatmate that I am—”

“Let it go, right?” Isak warns, even though he already knows the answer. “You let it ring and you didn’t pick up because that’s my business and not yours.”

“Well, no. What if it had been important? What if it was _you_ calling yourself to see whether you’d lost your phone? Wouldn’t you have wanted me to pick up to tell you not to worry?”

“No.”

“Okay, well Isak, if you’re gonna pretend you’re suddenly not a materialistic — right, right, I’m moving on,” Eskild quickly says. “Anyway, it turned out to be Even. And I picked up because I’m nice, you know? And we just… we had a little chat.”

Isak’s eyes narrow. “You had a little chat?”

Eskild nods.

“About what?”

It takes a moment for Eskild to find the right words, it seems. He licks his lips, and when he meets Isak’s eyes again, there’s something resigned there.

“I did most of the talking, to be honest. It was… It was a couple of weeks after he showed up, and after he’d left again you were just so mopey again. And I _know_ you said you were just sad he left and things were actually going better but Isak, jesus.  You liked the guy, all right, but that doesn’t mean he gets to leave you like that every time. So I told him— I told him that I thought he should know what his leaving was doing to you. You’ve had a hard enough time so far and you need someone steady. And big stars— they’re not. They’re not the most reliable. Or the most available. Even if Even meant well.”

With everything that he’s saying the feeling of anxiety and worry rises in Isak’s chest. He remembers leaving his phone at home this one time before going over to hang out with the boys because he’d been so annoyed with himself when they started playing FIFA and he didn’t have his phone to play with while it wasn’t his turn.

He also remembers Even’s radio silence after, only of course at the time he hadn’t connected the two events. The radio silence, and then the text.

“I was doing _fine_ —”

Eskild fixes him with a look. “You weren’t sleeping.”

Isak wants to retort, say that it’s not like he _ever_ sleeps well but then realises that’s probably not what Eskild wants to hear.

“I know you said you were fine with him leaving again,” Eskild continues, and he’s looking nervous but also a lot more determined now, “but you weren’t. You weren’t sleeping well and you weren’t eating well and you kept looking _lost_ whenever you weren’t talking to him.”

“ _Hva faen_ , Eskild, I’m not a child?” Isak interrupts angrily before Eskild can say more and make him feel worse. “You can’t just—”

“I know you’re not a child, Isak, but let’s just face it: you’re also not great at taking care of yourself,” Eskild suddenly sounds a lot calmer, like he’d been expecting an outburst. “And I’m not just talking about your extremely limited knowledge of healthy meals or your inability to do the dishes. But you’ve gone through a lot of _shit_ as a kid and as a result of that you’re also kind of shit at seeing whenever people aren’t treating you right.”

It’s quiet as Isak tries to process what exactly just happened. Something is burning behind his eyes after Eskild’s words but he just blinks harshly a couple of times.

“ _Still_ ! You don’t just get to decide that _for_ me? I know you like to see yourself as some kind of parental figure or like, whatever, but I don’t fucking— I don’t need that!”

He knows he’s talking too loud but it feels like the only way to get over the distress he feels.

He’s not even sure why he’s feeling overwhelmed by what Eskild is telling him. It’s actually _confirming_ what he’d been thinking all along, what he’d been holding onto: that something else had been going on. So why is hearing this making him feel sick to his stomach?

Eskild is still looking at him with that worried frown and he makes a move as if to come closer but Isak doesn’t know what he’ll do if Eskild touches him right now— or, he realises the possibility of tears comes even closer if that happens and that’s something he _really_ doesn’t want right now.

“Can you just—” he forces himself to let out a harsh breath as he stares back at the computer screen even though he doesn’t really see anything, and he knows he’s sounding angry but he can’t help it. “Can you just leave now? Please?”

For a moment he’s afraid Eskild is going to refuse, but then there’s a shift of the weight at the foot of the bed and he hears Eskild make his way through the room, open the door and close it again. The sound of the door shutting lifts a little bit of the weight off of his chest, but it’s still there, and it’s still heavy.

It takes him a couple of minutes of roughly pressing his fingernails into the palms of his hands to calm down, but his thoughts are still racing.

He’s trying to imagine how Even must have felt, getting that talk from Eskild, and his stomach churns. And Isak knows, he _knows_ , that Eskild is just trying to do best by him and no matter how enthusiastic or dramatic he can be, he wouldn’t just do something like this if he wasn’t legitimately concerned about Isak.

So, Isak forces himself to seriously consider whether Eskild was right, whether he was letting Even play him because he was just too infatuated to see.

When he closes his eyes, there are flashes of Even’s smile and Even’s teasing and Even pushing him into a pool. There are smirks and fingers wrapped around his, there’s Even’s hands on his face trying to calm him down and _yeah_ , fuck, _of course_ he was charmed by Even.

He can see what it looked like to Eskild.

Young, never-had-a-serious-relationship Isak versus hot shot director Even Bech Næsheim, captivated by an easy smile and a bit of affection because everyone can see how touch-starved he is from miles away.

It’s moments like these that Isak hates how analytical his mind can get. Every time he finds a reason why what he had with Even was _real,_  another part of him is saying _, but what if this, too, is just you being naive?_ He wants someone to just tell him the truth. He wants to know what was real. He wants to call Even and ask him.

All right, maybe it’s true that he’s never been in a serious relationship. But he’s also not sixteen and barely out of the closet anymore, unsure of who he is because for the past decade it’s been buried deep underneath a whole bunch of internalised homophobia, anxiety, and self hatred. He hasn’t been fighting through that for the past _years_ to have it all questioned again now.

Flashes of a conversation he had with Even pass his mind, snippets of conversations playing back.

 _Only you can feel what you feel,_ he remembers whispering into Even's skin, their minds filled with heaviness and memories and difficult pasts. 

And if that’s true for Even (and it _is_ ) then can’t it be true for Isak too?

The moment he realises that, something eases in his chest. A little more of the weight is lifted. He lets out a shaky breath.

What’s left is a sharp sadness and Isak isn’t yet sure if that’s an improvement on the rumbling, chaotic mix between anger and confusion he felt before.

Because it means that what he had with Even was real. It wasn’t just Isak being stupid. But then that also means Even’s response to Eskild telling him to stop leaving was _le_ _aving anyway_ and yeah. That doesn’t actually make Isak feel any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!!! 
> 
> feel free to hmu up on [twitter](http://twitter.com/jostvns) or [tumblr](http://minjard.tumblr.com)


	8. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When March is coming to an end, Mahdi closes the restaurant on a Friday night and invites all of them for a private dinner so he can try out some more dishes on them. They all make a point of coming to eat at the restaurant regularly anyway, but being given the luxury of having the entire space to themselves always wins over the bustle the restaurant now faces almost every night.
> 
> Isak doesn’t think of the last time they did this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all. i'm not gonna lie. i wrote way more angst than i thought i had jksdlf. like actually going through the chapters i didn't remember the angst lasted so long i honestly don't know how i wrote all of this because both josie and julia can confirm that when i have to write angst i complain A Lot 'cause like. i don't like it. i want them happy. 
> 
> anyway. have fun. i guess. this is another scary chapter to post but i'm trying to have a bit of faith in myself because everyone's comments on the last chapter were so thoughtful and great. thank you for that. 
> 
> as always thanks to the double j cheerleading team. i love u two.

When March is coming to an end, Mahdi closes the restaurant on a Friday night and invites all of them for a private dinner so he can try out some more dishes on them. They all make a point of coming to eat at the restaurant regularly anyway, but being given the luxury of having the entire space to themselves always wins over the bustle the restaurant now faces almost every night.

Isak doesn’t think of the last time they did this.

He doesn’t.

“Everyone,” Mahdi says ceremoniously before he allows them to start on their appetisers. “Thanks for coming. There’s cards next to all of your plates, and if you want to eat tonight you better write down what you think of the dish right after you ate it so I can take your criticism and work with it. All evaluations are, of course, anonymous, but also, I recognise all of your handwriting so know that I will hunt you down if you tell me you think something is disgusting.

“And, I just wanted to take this opportunity to tell all of you that I really do appreciate all the support you guys have provided even when that one guy wrote a shitty review on his blog and then for helping me stop Magnus from beating him up. I know I say you’re all a pretty sad bunch but I love  you anyway, so.”

Everyone coos and cheers as Mahdi raises his glass in a toast.

“If we’re making some happy announcements,” Eva says, raising her voice a little. “I quit my job!”

More cheers, even louder this time, as Eva clinks her glass with all the people she can reach.

“Yeah, I decided that I’m fucking done letting myself get pushed around by all those assholes and being unhappy about it. I’m making my own decisions, strong independent woman and all that. Fuck the money, right? I mean, I don’t have anything else lined up yet but I’ll find something. It’s gonna be better.”

She says it with such conviction that Isak almost feels it seep into himself.

Appetizers are small cheesy cups filled with a teeny tiny salad and if Isak is completely, entirely honest, he doesn’t understand the point of having something so small to eat if it doesn’t really satisfy your hunger and only tastes nice for one bite, but apart from that it’s great.

(He doesn’t think about Even telling him off for eating too few vegetables.)

“I also want to quickly say something,” Isak says as they start on their main course (stuffed sweet potato) and waves his hands to get everyone to quiet down. “Listen, I know I have been kind of annoying for the past however many months. So, you know, sorry for being a downer and thanks for not kicking me out of your respective houses.”

“Let’s just say it how it was,” Eva says, “there were dead people with better form. Still loved having you mope on the couch though.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Isak continues, fixing her with a glare. “I’m ready to move on now. After tonight, it’s gonna be back to your regularly scheduled programming with me.”

Everyone is quiet.

“So you’re… officially done?” Magnus asks, and Isak has to roll his eyes at the sad tone.

“I’m done,” Isak declares. “I’m gonna return to being sad about how my business is going to hell instead. Just like old times. It’ll be good.”

Two hours later, he’s on his he’s not entirely sure how many-th beer of the evening, leaning against Jonas. Everything feels kind of blurry around the edges, but also kind of nice and fizzy. Mahdi didn’t make space brownies again which everyone (Isak, Jonas, and Magnus) was extremely disappointed about, but he did make a three layer chocolate cake which completely made up for it because apparently a chocolate high is just as good as a regular high.

Vilde and Noora just figured out how to get the speakers attached to their phones and are now blasting some greatest 80’s hits. _Uptown Girl_ hits first and when Magnus yells “I love this song” Isak can’t quite make out whether he’s referencing that one meme or he just seriously, unironically loves listening to _Uptown Girl_. In any case, he joins Chris on the dance floor they improvised by shoving some tables to the side.

From his safe corner, Isak can hear Eva say, “I am _so_ drunk.” to Noora, who pats her on the shoulder while sipping her sparkly lemonade, but then lets herself be pulled onto the dance floor by an unsteady Eva anyway.

“So you’re completely over him?” Jonas says.

“Hm?” Isak asks distractedly, squinting as he tries to figure out whether Chris is actually looking at him with that spoon in her mouth or if she’s simply eating her chocolate cake and he’s just having war flashbacks to high school.

“Even Bech Næsheim? You’re actually completely over the guy?”

“Yep,” Isak replies, letting the ‘p’ pop.

“And we like… have to believe that?”

“Yep.”

Jonas hums.

“You know?” Isak downs the rest of the beer. “Eskild told me he… He told him to make up his mind.”

“What?”

“Eskild told me that he told Even to make up his mind. About sticking around, or like, I don’t know. Leaving. Anyway, he talked to Even without me knowing,” he huffs, working his jaw. Eva is twirling the rest of the girls around to the wailing sound of _I Want To Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)_. Isak really doesn’t feel anything for dancing whatsoever but fuck, he wants to feel the heat with somebody (that loves him).

“But whatever, right? I’m over it.”

“You’re over it like you’re over Even?” Jonas asks skeptically and Isak is really annoyed by how reasonable he still sounds despite the alcohol.

“You know what the fucking thing is?” Isak continues. “Even didn’t even talk to _me_ about it so apparently it’s like… not important to him. He should have just talked to me and then I could’ve told him it was all fine and then maybe— _Whatever_. I need another drink,” but before he can decide what the best tactical way to get back to the drinks table is in his current unsteady state, his phone buzzes and he gets another idea.

“What are you doing?”

“You know what I need? I need to text Even, like you said, and then it’ll be out of my system and then I’m _done_. Cool?”

Jonas squints at him for a moment and Isak isn’t sure whether it is because he’s also drunk and he’s having a difficult time focussing, or whether he’s trying to figure out if Isak is in his right mind.

“Yeah, okay,” he shrugs in the end, scooting in closer so he can look over Isak’s shoulder. “But you gotta be cool about it, okay? Like, don’t go crying or anything, you just have to play it _cool_.”

“Play it cool?” Isak asks, pulling up Even’s contact information and starting a new text. “Yeah, yeah okay. I can do that. I’m the master of being cool.”

This is such a good plan. It’s just a _great_ idea, he’ll get to work out his unresolved anger (and the sexual tension… well, he’ll just find another way to work through that) and it’s gonna be closure and you know what, he doesn’t even care if Even replies or not!

Fuck. He’s feeling great.

Admittedly, his stomach is lowkey disagreeing with that statement, but his stomach is just gonna have to get over it.

Isak has a text to write.

“Damn right!” Jonas claps him on the shoulder.

 

> **Even:** Hi Isak, I’m sorry it’s been a bit quiet. With everything that’s been going on, working on the new movie and everything, I’m not sure if this is something I’m ready for right now. I’m sorry, I know this is my fault. Hope you’re okay. Even

“Okay,” he stares at the message and tries to think of something to say, but despite all the emotions that he’s been going through, there are suddenly no words.

“Why aren’t you typing?”

“I—” Isak huffs, then blows out a long breath. “Okay.”

“Just. No feelings. Straight up, tell him that what he did wasn’t cool.”

 

> **Even:** Hi Isak, I’m sorry it’s been a bit quiet. With everything that’s been going on, working on the new movie and everything, I’m not sure if this is something I’m ready for right now. I’m sorry, I know this is my fault. Hope you’re okay. Even
> 
> i’m chi ll b ut hhwat you did wasn’t cool
> 
> don t talk to my friend s behind my bakc and not takl to me
> 
> whate ve r i dont care
> 
> no feel igns

“I’m— I mean, that wasn’t really… But yeah, I guess that works, too. Well done, dude! How do you feel?” Jonas says, hitting him on the back again, and hey — there’s Isak’s stomach playing up again. That’s not fun.

“I’m gonna go throw up now,” he declares a little bit too loudly, so everyone can hear him over the sound of their collective singing along to _Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go_. This in turn causes loud whooping from the dance floor and a “Either you do it outside two streets away from here or you clean it up yourself!” from Mahdi.

—

Isak wakes up the next morning with a splitting headache and a feeling of dread in his stomach that he can’t quite place. Maybe it’s just the leftover feeling of sickness. Still, it’s like there’s something he should be remembering from last night but it’s just, just out of reach…

It stays with him all the way through brushing his teeth (his mouth still feels gross from last night) and while he crawls back into bed again to see if he can get some more sleep. It’s only when he grabs his phone from the bedside table that something starts dawning on him. There’s some messages from Eva that take a moment for his sleepy brain to decipher.

 

> **Eva:** gimeme m y sweEtree bakc
> 
> my swEATER
> 
> adn don t throw up on that too takk
> 
> g et hjome saf e
> 
> <3<3<3

He locates the red sweater next to his bed and it seems unharmed so he quickly shoots her a message back and adds a _drink water pls_.

Next, there’s something from Magnus in the group chat that turns out to be a video of Chris rapping a verse from Nicki Minaj’s Monster after downing a tequila shot that Isak has absolutely zero recollection of.

And then—

He stills when he sees Even’s name that high up the list of recent conversations and for a moment he thinks he’s going to be sick again.

Fuck.

Isak lies back down for a moment, attempting to keep his calm. It’s not like this isn’t definitely up there in between _stupidest fucking things he’s ever done while under the influence_ , because it definitely is, right above letting Magnus shave off his hair after he’d gotten annoyed with the tangles one night while they were all high. It’s more like he needs to work himself up to the moment that he can look at the messages again so he can figure out what the fuck to do now. It’s only when he does that he sees the two blue check marks.

_Fuck._

why the fuck did yo ulet me drunk text even last night?

Jonas, to his credit, replies remarkably fast for someone who had been drinking about as much as Isak last night. Isak refuses to feel sorry for waking him up.

 

> **Jonas:** fuck.
> 
> you actually did that?
> 
> i thought i dreamt it man
> 
> last night was a mess
> 
> wait does that mean magnus actually somersaulted through the restaurant?
> 
> jonas
> 
> what the fuck do i do now????
> 
> **Jonas:** right
> 
> has he seen it?
> 
> yes
> 
> **Jonas:** ok just like. tell him you were drunk
> 
> and you didn’t mean to message him
> 
> tell him to ignore it
> 
> ok

So Isak does just that, types out a _you should ignore what i said last night. really sorry for bothering you, things got a little out of hand. won’t happen again_ and lets Jonas approve it before sending it off.

Then, he chucks his phone on the far side of the bed and hides further under the covers.

It’s extra annoying that when he wakes up again around three thirty that afternoon (Eskild keeps knocking on the door to ask if he’s still in the land of the living or whether he should break down the door) and checks his phone there’s just that little twinge of disappointment after he sees there’s no message back from Even.

He’s not sure why he’s surprised that he doesn’t hear back. He should have totally been expecting this. He even _told_ Even to ignore what he said so maybe the guy’s just solemnly following Isak’s instructions. Honestly, he doesn’t even _want_ Even to text him back.

It’s just that, ever since Eskild told him what happened the fucking uncertainty is back and now it’s tripled. His mind won’t _shut up_ about all the what ifs, all the possible alternate ways this could have played out. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times he rationalises that if Even had really wanted whatever they were doing to continue, he would have put up more of a fight, because every time something in his chest aches it’s because of that stupid feeling he has.

That feeling that if maybe _he’d_ put up more of a fight, things could’ve played out differently as well.

There are buzzes coming from somewhere in his bed and Isak hits the covers to figure out where exactly he threw down his phone earlier. When he finds it, there’s 43 messages in the group chat, most of which turn out to be pictures from last night that are either blurry or capture moments Isak doesn’t actually mind not remembering anymore.

It feels as if the world around him suddenly becomes even more quiet when he sees who the other two messages are from. The only thing he can hear is the beating of his own heart, loud in his ears.

 

> **Even:** it’s fine, no worries
> 
> are you okay?

And well, what the fuck is Isak supposed to respond to that? He momentarily debates calling Jonas to ask him what to do again, but ultimately decides against it.

 

> i’m fine

And then, after another moment of hesitation, with all his self-preservation instinct yelling at him, he writes out a careful:

 

> how are you?

The response is fast.

 

> **Even:** working hard, big meeting soon
> 
> where are you rn?
> 
> **Even:** new york

It’s just to test the waters, he tells himself. Just to know what’s going on. He can’t let it be anything more than that.

—

Over the next couple of days, they text and Isak… Isak is wary. But Even doesn’t seem to be deterred by his one word responses - apparently he’s got a big deadline coming up, a meeting with some Very Important people, and he can’t stop talking about it. Every time Isak’s heart skips a beat when a new message comes in, he wants to chastise himself. He’s not entirely sure why he’s doing this.

It’s just that it’s Even. And apparently he makes all of Isak’s logic go straight out of the window. He really tries though, to not be eager. He makes himself silence his phone or even puts it in the back just so he won’t be looking on it.

The moment he checks it, though, Even’s texts are immediately in his face.

 

> **Even:** this deadline is breathing down my neck
> 
> **Even:** i want to tell you about it but i can’t
> 
> why
> 
> **Even:** it’s a surprise :-)
> 
> **Even:** what???
> 
> **Even:** :-) :-) :-) :-)
> 
> **Even:** will it help if i tell you the surprise is for you

—

Okay, so Isak thought the time difference was gonna be a problem but it turns out that between his own insomnia and Even staying up until ridiculously late (or, arguably, early) hours to work on his script, despite Isak suggesting a decent amount of sleep might also come in handy if he’s going to want to convince important business people to work with him. Even dismisses that with a _inspiration waits for no one isak!_ and he’ll suddenly be unresponsive for hours, before messaging Isak in the early morning with an overview picture of the dozens of storyboards he drew at one in the morning.

It is, to say the very least, slightly overwhelming. He knows the boys must’ve noticed seeing as they’ve been shooting him looks all evening that Isak has been trying to subtly ignore.

He knows Eskild’s also noticed, even though he hasn’t said anything about it.

Isak kind of appreciates that Eskild didn’t come up to him to apologise the day after his revelation. He doesn’t think he could’ve accepted the apology then, everything still fresh. Instead, Eskild’s been quietly _there_ , making coffee in the mornings and only very teasingly mentioning the lack of vegetables in Isak’s part of the fridge.

Even that, though, has been getting on his nerves. He wants things to go back to normal but he also knows that can’t happen until he’s ready to forgive Eskild, but he tells Eskild to stop with all the niceties anyway. It’s more comforting than he thought to hear the familiar _and this time_ don’t _forget to pick up toiler paper after work, please_ before he leaves in the morning.  

It’s Thursday night and he and the boys are supposedly having a drink before going out with the girls later but a drink has turned into multiple drinks and to be completely honest, Isak wouldn’t mind just hanging out on Jonas’ couch for the rest of the night.

It’s not that he minds hanging out with the girls, not with _these_ girls at least, but he’s just not been catching a lot of sleep in general and he’s really not in the mood to be everyone’s wingman for the rest of the night.

“Dude!” Taken from the exasperated tone, it can’t have been the first time Magnus tried to get his attention.

“What?”

“Mags was talking to you,” Mahdi replies amused. “You weren’t really responding.”

“Sorry, bit tired, I guess,” Isak mumbles vaguely. He feels like that’s all he says these days. Jonas, apparently, feels the same way, because he shoots Isak a frown at that, which Isak tries to just shrug off before asking, “What’s up Mags?”

He _is_ kind of tired, so it’s not a complete lie. He’s just also thinking about texting Even again.

“I’m guessing you just completely missed my entire dilemma?” Magnus asks with a long and deep sigh that Isak takes as Magnus not giving a shit because he loves telling dramatic stories as many times as he can. “Anyway, so there’s this girl right—”

Isak tunes out again.

—

They do end up going out with everyone. Isak allows himself to be convinced because he decides that if he tells them he _doesn’t_ feel up for it, he’s definitely going to have another talk with Jonas and he loves his best friend, _he does_ , but he’s also not ready to be scolded for letting his dumb ass get dragged into this again.

So they go out and it turns out only Eva and Chris could make it and the two of them whisk away Mahdi and Jonas once they arrive, quickly disappearing into the mass of people, which leaves Isak hanging by the bar with Magnus, who can’t stop talking about this girl that he’s been texting with since last week, but who’s been giving him a cold shoulder ever since he told her he’s bisexual.

Isak orders another beer in the hope that the nice fuzzy feeling that kind of softens all edges will set in quickly.

“And it’s just, I don’t know whether I should let this deter me, you know? Like, maybe she just needs to be educated, right? I think—”

“Mags, listen to me,” Isak interrupts him when he can’t take it anymore. “This girl is being biphobic as fuck. You’re right, people need to be educated but man, this is some girl you talked to for, what? An hour? At some party a week ago? And now she’s ghosting you because she’s biphobic, just — let it go. You don’t need to educate everyone. Just like, _go_ , get another drink and find yourself a cool guy to hook up with tonight. Plenty of fish in the sea.”

Isak winces at how hypocritical that last line sounds, and he quickly takes another swig of his beer to hide it. Meanwhile, Magnus is looking at the crowds pensively before slowly nodding.

“You know what? You’re fucking right. Plenty of fucking fish in the sea! I’m gonna go hook up! Hook up, you get it?”

Before Isak can say something about that horrible joke, Magnus has left him and soon he’s lost in the crowd. Now that he’s alone, Isak realises his foolproof plan does leave him desolate and sad, nursing his beer. At some point, it becomes difficult to keep avoiding the looks the bartender is giving him, so he pulls out his phone just to look like he has something to do.

 

> i’m bored
> 
> al lthe boys are hookin g up
> 
> the bartender is givin me another drink!
> 
> **Even:** you’re not hooking up?
> 
> no

No, Even, Isak is not hooking up. He is, in fact, still very much hooked up. But there’s no response anymore, and Isak sighs, tries to spot anyone he knows but they’re all too deep into the crowds so he just watches Eva and Chris’ instagram stories like a loser, in an attempt to figure out where they are through that. Even after he thinks he’s somewhat located them, the idea of having to go into the mess of sweaty and loud people makes him want to sit down again, so he hangs back.

Another half an hour passes.

Isak wonders why he didn’t just make up a good fucking excuse to not have to go out.

Some guy that kind of looks like Even buys him a drink, and actually he doesn’t really look like Even except for the fact that he’s wearing a denim jacket that looks like the one Even wears (and wears so well, at that). He’s significantly less handsome, and his hair doesn’t defy gravity, which, apparently, has become one of Isak’s criterions now.

The guy slinks off after Isak starts rambling about a book on microbiology he just started reading, and Isak thinks about Even listening full of attention to Isak’s digressions about all sorts of stuff that Even probably wasn’t even remotely interested in.

Isak is left with the sweet, probably very alcoholic drink and another look from the bartender which, turns out, is a pretty good deal. Except that he’s still alone and he _knows_ he just drove away a pretty cute guy but he doesn’t want a pretty cute guy. He wants _Even_.

 

> sti Ll bore d
> 
> wis h u we re here wiht me
> 
> ug h

Of fucking course, there’s no reply.  

Well. That’s fine. Isak will just keep exchanging looks with the bartender, who starts looking more attractive with every sip of alcohol he drinks.

Suddenly, there’s a loud yell in his ear and an arm around his waist and for a moment Isak thinks he’s going to have to fight someone but it’s just Eva who seems to be _extremely_ happy to see him.

“Isak,” she drawls, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I’m kind of drunk. Are you sitting here all alone? Jonas is taking me home. Or bringing me home or, I don’t know. Anyway, are you coming too? Chris is hooking up somewhere and Mahdi is with Magnus also… somewhere. I think. I don’t know. What time is it?”

He considers for a moment, eyes shooting to the bartender who’s now smoothly pouring a drink for someone on the other side of the bar. He looks back at Eva.

Yeah. He’s coming home too.

—

When he wakes up, there are three messages from Even. All three make his heart stop.

 

> **Even** : i’m coming baby
> 
> at the airport now, gotta turn off my phone soon
> 
> see you in seven hours <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading <3


	9. nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The message was sent at 6 in the morning Isak’s time and he’s not entirely sure what to do with it when he wakes up. Like, obviously it’s supposed to be funny, right? But Isak thinks his and Even’s type of humour are generally pretty in line with each other. And like, he supposes this could’ve been a joke, Even trying to be cute and all, but it falls kind of flat in his opinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i don't believe in fate   
> me: [finds out i've used the term parallel universe 21 times in this fic]  
> me: fate is Real
> 
> anyway. last scary chapter before we move on to the stuff i'm Really Very Super Excited about. that'll be good. i'm gonna finish translating my obama speech now. 
> 
> josie go finish ur amazing fic so i can talk to u again & julia stop roasting me because this ice pack is actually making me really cold (don't u two love how i used to thank u here and now it's just a way to communicate my thoughts and feelings to you)

The message was sent at 6 in the morning Isak’s time and he’s not entirely sure what to do with it when he wakes up. Like, obviously it’s supposed to be funny, right? But Isak thinks his and Even’s type of humour are generally pretty in line with each other. And like, he supposes this could’ve been a joke, Even trying to be cute and all, but it falls kind of flat in his opinion. 

Maybe someone should just take Isak’s phone away if he’s been drinking from now on. It obviously doesn’t get him anywhere good. 

> funny

And then, when he doesn’t get an immediate response, he continues. 

> you’re kidding right
> 
> you said you have that important meeting today

Again, Even doesn’t respond which, fine. It’s like middle of the night in New York, supposedly, so Isak should be happy to know Even is actually sleeping for once. All that deprivation can take its toll on a human — he should know. So yeah, it’s all good. Isak isn’t worried. He shouldn’t be, at least.

Turns out it doesn’t really matter how many times he tells himself to be chill it’s just not working out, so on his way to work he decides to just call. Normally, he wouldn’t. It’s one in the morning in New York and he’ll feel really bad if he wakes Even the night before his important meeting, but the feeling in his stomach is too incessant, the feeling of his heart beating too fast, too worrying.

The phone rings and Isak’s other hand nervously taps his thigh. Even will just pick up and he’ll be all sleepy and tell Isak to calm the fuck down, because everything is fine. It was a joke and Isak just left his sense of humour somewhere with his ability to relax and his straightness. It’s gonna be fine.

The phone rings for five seconds.

Isak almost misses the entrance of his own shop as he waits for the dial tone to end. He fumbles with the keys even more than usual, misses the lock three times because his hands feel shaky before he manages to open the door and close it again, leaning his back against it for a moment before moving to the stool by the counter.

The tone lasts for another five seconds and then there’s a click and Isak wants to let out a loud sigh of relief when a robotic woman’s voice starts talking from his speakers.

“The number you are trying to reach is not available at this moment. Please try again later.”

_ Fuck _ .

He tries calling again.

“The number you are trying to reach is not available at this moment. Please try again later.”

_ You’re probably just freaking out over nothing. Maybe his phone is off, or the battery is dead. He’s probably just asleep still. Why can’t you ever fucking  _ chill _? _

But he can’t help but look up flights leaving from New York. It’s a seven hour trip, which means Even would be arriving around two o’clock in the afternoon, Oslo time. If he were actually flying to Oslo on the day he has this really important meeting that he’s been talking about basically non-stop since they started texting again, which of course  _ he isn’t _ . He isn’t. 

Because that would be rash and Even is impulsive, sure, but he isn’t stupid. 

This whole situation feels off. 

“Hi Isak! Are we opening late?”

Isak shoots up at the sound of the door opening and Julian’s voice suddenly ringing through the silence. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to say.

“Did I startle you?” Julian asks amusedly as he takes of his coat and hangs it on the coat rack.

“No, it’s—” Isak trails off. “Nothing. It’s fine.”

Julian starts talking about his day and Isak tries to pay attention, but his mind is with Even. He worries a bit of loose skin around his cuticle until it starts to bleed and Julian asks him again if everything is okay. Isak has trouble doing anything but nodding.

Time seems to pass exceptionally slowly that day. At some point, Isak considers just telling Julian to take over for the rest of the hours so he can go home and scream, or at least walk some of the anxiety out. He keeps trying to reach Even but the same robotic voice keeps giving him the same robotic message until Isak is about ready to chuck his phone across the room

 

Twelve o’clock passes uneventfully, then one o’clock, and by now Isak is really feeling like he wants to throw up. He’s been completely useless all day, only pacing through the store, moving piles of books from one side of the store to the other without real purpose. Julian has been sending him weird looks but hasn’t asked Isak whether he’s okay again, which Isak is grateful for.

Two o’clock passes, then two thirty and Isak knows that if the plane arrived at two that Even would’ve come straight to the store and he’d be here by now — it’s only half an hour to the city from the airport. But Even is not here, there’s no sign of him in Oslo at all, if Isak’s social media searches are anything to go by.

Finally, for what feels like the first time since that morning, Isak takes a deep breath. So maybe he’s just been freaking out about nothing. Maybe Even just turned off his phone today — didn’t he mention to Isak that he likes to do that when he wants to concentrate? Maybe he’s in his meeting right now and he’ll be confused as hell when he looks at his phone again and finds tons of missed messages from Isak. Maybe Isak should just —

His phone pings with a new message (it’s serious when Isak turns the sound of his notifications on for the first time in probably… years).

> **Even:** you think i’d be joking about something like this???
> 
> half an hour, baby

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuck.

Isak can’t breathe. Julian is saying something to him but he can’t hear it, just motions to  outside as he steps through the door and tries to center himself but his hands are shaking and he doesn’t  _ fucking know what to do _ .

He doesn’t understand. None of his thoughts are making sense right now and he just wants to  _ understand  _ why Even is — 

Oh. 

It feels like everything around him quiets for a moment when things suddenly start to click into place. All the research he’d done months ago now and that he’d put on the back burner is slowly coming back to him. The fact that Even’s been getting so little sleep. The spurts of energy and productivity. The  _ flying all the way across the fucking ocean  _ just because drunk Isak couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut. 

He’s feeling nauseous. 

Even is going to be here in half an hour and all the signs are pointing at him being manic and Isak doesn’t know how to do that, he doesn’t know what he should do when Even gets here, he can’t even keep himself together so he sure as fucking hell doesn’t know what Even needs right now.

He needs to call someone.

He doesn’t remember dialing the number but later, he thinks it probably was a weird sense of instinct that made him call Sana instead of Jonas or Eva.

“Isak?”

“Sana, I need— fuck, I need your brother’s phone number. Something is wrong with Even and he just — he took a  _ plane  _ here and he has this important meeting and I don’t know what to do, he said he’s on his way here and I don’t—”

He’s still having trouble breathing, and at some point his mouth seems to forget how to make words. He can’t feel his feet or his hands.

“Okay, Isak, it sounds like you’re having a panic attack and before I can do anything I need you to breathe. Take a breath in, then hold it for four seconds, and let it out for seven. Can you try that?”

Isak wants to tell her that there is no  _ time  _ to calm down but he can’t actually seem to make the words come out of his mouth, which, yeah, maybe proves her point, so he tries. She keeps repeating the instructions, voice tense but calm, and it’s like a lifeline for him as he’s standing there, forehead resting against the cold stone of the side of the store, eyes closed, forcing himself to breathe. Slowly, he regains the feeling in his hands.

“What’s wrong with Even?” she asks when she seems convinced. “Elias says he’s supposed in New York right now but they haven’t talked much the past week or so.”

That mere question almost works Isak back into a panic but he manages to answer. “He’s not, he’s in Oslo.” He can hear her pass that information on quietly. “Sana, I think — I think he might be manic. We’d been texting again and he’s been sleeping really badly and last night he texts me that he’s coming to Oslo to—”  _ to see me _ . He can’t even finish the sentence. Guilt washes over him. “I thought he was joking, I didn’t know that— I haven’t been able to get in contact with him all day but he just sent me this text saying he’s in Oslo and he’s coming  _ here _ .”

She seems to quietly discuss with Elias for a while and Isak waits anxiously, tries to keep doing the breathing exercises. When she gets back to him, she tells him that Even’s parents are out of town but that the boys are going to come pick Even up at the store. Isak tries to tell himself that that’s good, but the worry pooling in his stomach is overwhelming everything else.

“Isak, he’s going to be okay. And I know you’re going to want to believe this was about you but it’s not. This wasn’t your fault,” she tells him and he is unable to say anything in return except for a muttered  _ thanks  _ before she hangs up.   

He goes back inside to wait, hoping to all the stars above that the boys are going to be here before Even is.

Of course, he’s not that lucky. Sometimes Isak thinks luck is just out there with a baseball bat, waiting to hit the air out of him with every new corner that he turns.

He’s rubbing his hands over his face when the bell at the door chimes. It almost feels ironic, the unimaginable difference between what Isak felt the first time he saw Even walking through this door, unaware of what was happening, and the drop in his stomach he feels when he recognises the jacket (of course Even is wearing the same jacket).

Yeah, luck really has it out for Isak.

Time seems to freeze for a moment as their eyes meet. There’s bags underneath Even’s, his hair is a mess underneath his hoodie. His eyes are shining. They’re almost  _ too  _ bright.

“Halla.”

And there’s the smile again. Isak wants to smile back at the mere sight of that — it’s almost muscle memory.

“Halla,” he breathes out.

“You look surprised. You didn’t think I’d actually show up?”

He sounds fine. His voice is Even’s voice, the same as the last time Isak spoke to him. He doesn’t quite know why he thought it’d be different, but it’s not. It’s just Even, and at the mere sight of him, something inside of Isak’s chest jumps up.

“Are you happy to see me?”

Before Isak can answer, Even is by his side, it only takes him a couple of long strides and then he’s in Isak’s space, leaning in right as Isak leans back. The gesture doesn’t seem to rebuff Even’s enthusiasm. He just tilts his head, still smiling. It breaks Isak’s heart a little.

“You remember when we first met?  _ Fy faen,  _ you looked so fucking hot that day. Still do,” Even turns around slightly from where he’s walking by the books, giving Isak that telltale eyebrow wiggle.

It feels so strange. Because yeah, this is Even and  _ yet _ . There’s something different. He’s talking a little faster, energy seems to be radiating off of him, and while none of those things are completely  _ not-Even _ , it still feels off. Even the times his eyes still on Isak’s face for a moment, Isak feels like he’s not really looking. He remembers Magnus saying something about struggling to make contact with his mum while she’s manic and that’s what this feels like too. Even though Even is right there, so close, it’s like there’s a glass wall in between them.

“What time is it?”

Isak is glad to have an excuse to check his phone. There’s nothing from any of the boys. “15:15.”

“Make a wish. You know what?” Even asks, then, continuing before Isak can reply. “We should go somewhere. We should check into a fucking suite! We can go to the Radisson Blu, do like a tour of all the places we’ve been together in the city. Or we just get room service and stay up there all day.”

It’s the first time Isak notices that Even doesn’t have any luggage with him and part of him wants to believe that maybe he’s just left it at his apartment but something is telling him there’s nothing there.

“That sounds nice,” Isak says and it’s a sign of how out of it Even is that he doesn’t seem to register how steeled it sounds, how controlled. “But wait— Even, I can’t leave, I’m working right now.”

“Julian can take over,” Even says dismissively. He seems unable to stay still, tapping his leg, the counter, buzzing with energy.

“He can’t, it’s my store. I can’t just  _ leave  _ in the middle of the day. But, Elias is coming over with the boys. So you can hang out with them while I’m here. They’re really excited to see you.”

There’s no response and Isak wants to hit himself. He feels so fucking  _ useless _ , he doesn’t know what to do, how to deal with this. He doesn’t know how to make sure Even is okay and protect his own heart at the same time. Maybe the latter is a lost cause anyway.

“I almost forgot about your gift.”

“My gift?” Isak asks weakly.

“The gift I’ve been working on for you,” and he’s shaking his head like Isak is silly for not knowing what the fuck he’s talking about. “The surprise?”

“What is it?”

Even grins broader, raising his eyebrows. “I can’t show you here, so I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” He’s leaning forward on the counter again and he’s finally really looking at Isak with those shining eyes and Isak wants to lean into it. When Even continues, his voice is softer. “Come on… Come out with me now, we can explore. I just want to go places with you. I want to do everything with you.”

The crack in Isak’s heart splits open further.

The jingle of the bell by the door startles him but relief washes over him when he recognises Mikael, Elias, and Adam. He doesn’t think he’d have been able to handle it had it been a regular customer.

“Even, bro!” Elias wraps Even up in a big hug, which Even returns delightedly, eyes crinkling.

“Hey, Isak,” Mikael says, shooting Isak a smile. “You okay?”

Isak nods quickly. There’s a quick exchange of pleasantries and Isak hates himself, he hates himself for being unable to be  _ them _ , calm and looking genuinely happy to see Even. They don’t seem worried at all. So why can’t the heavy weight move off of Isak’s chest too?

“Hey, let’s get out of Isak’s hair for now,” Mikael says then. “Unlike the rest of us he’s being a hard worker and we’re not making him any money. Also, it’s great that you’re here now, we can pay the spring fair our annual visit.”

“Do you think we’re still banned from the milk bottle game?” Adam asks.

“I’ll win you something,” Even tells Isak. “And I’ll come back to you later.”

He thinks Mikael says something, maybe a  _ thanks _ , but Isak doesn’t really register it. Isak nods. It’s all he seems to be able to do.

—

Where before his entire body was filled with anxieties, everything feels empty now. It’s like there’s a bubble around his head, keeping all the sounds out — or, not out, just muted. Almost like he’s under water. He nearly winces at the memory, but strangely it even feels like the hurt doesn’t really hit him.

Numb fingers text Julian to tell him he can lock up himself. Isak doesn’t think he can make it back to the store and not have a breakdown on the way there. He explains where the keys are and does his best to reassure Julian when he expresses concern at Isak not making it back.  _ I’m just not feeling well _ , he texts and it’s not a lie.

It’s not a lie.

He’s not feeling well.

It’s good that walking home is something he can do on autopilot. The world seems too far away to really pay attention to right now. He rings the bell when he gets to the kollektiv because he doesn’t know where his keys are and he doesn’t think he could get them into the lock anyway.

“Hi!” a cheery voice tells him and it almost doesn’t register, because he isn’t expecting Eva’s words to come through the small speaker next to the doorbells. “Who’s there?”

“Eva?”

“Isak? Why aren’t you using your keys?” she asks, but the obnoxious buzzing noise sounds before he can say anything and instead of answering he pushes against the door and heads up. It only hits him while he’s walking up the stairs that Eva and Jonas would be coming over to hang out tonight. Eva must have come in early because she knows where their spare keys are, or she knew Linn would be home to let her in.

The door is already open when he gets there and Isak steps inside, but doesn’t come in further than the hall just yet. He isn’t sure what to do now. Despite the detachment he feels, the idea of going inside and having Eva fawn over him is completely overwhelming. He can hear her messing around in the kitchen, humming a tune he vaguely recognises.

He doesn’t know what to say to her. He doesn’t know how to explain —  _ if  _ he can explain at all. 

His chest involuntarily starts to tighten again at the thought alone. Something constricts in his throat.

“You’re early?” she calls and he wants to reply but no sound passes his lips.

Isak isn’t entirely sure how long he stands there, frozen in place. At some point, when his silence keeps lasting, Eva must realise something is up because he vaguely registers her footsteps as she comes out of the kitchen, her voice a little questioning as she asks, “Isak?”

He doesn’t think he can handle her asking what’s going on. She doesn’t, just stares at him for a moment as he stands there in his sweater, shivering even though the apartment heating is clearly on.

Within seconds, she’s by his side and he realises she doesn’t need to ask any questions as she wraps her arms around him. She’s way smaller than he is, and yet there’s something enveloping about her hug anyway, something about the way she curls around him, something about the way she grabs onto his sweater and tries to pull him as close as possible.

There’s something protective about it and any other time he would have made a joke about small Eva trying to keep him from harm but now he just tries to blink through the burning behind his eyes.

In the back of his mind, a mirror image of this moment swims, only it was him holding Eva as she crumbled. 

The sense of guilt pooling in his stomach feels familiar, though.

Jonas is his best friend but he has something else with Eva, something he doesn’t think either of them are really able to explain. He remembers finding it difficult to bond with her at first because there she was, suddenly taking away from his time with Jonas, but at some point that feeling made way for the fact that Eva was just a really great person to be around. Maybe it started out with their love of Jonas and turned into a combination of bonding over absent fathers and shared inability to skateboard. These days, it’s something bigger than that. An overarching feeling he can’t really put into words but that makes him feel happy and comfortable whenever he thinks about it.

Her arms tighten around him when she feels him pulling away and where he had thought he wouldn’t be able to handle the closeness, it’s almost stabilising now. She feels solid, a ready heat wrapped around him. Even as she guides him into the living room, she keeps holding on to his sweater and he’s grateful that she doesn’t let go because he has this weird feeling that he’ll disappear if she does.

Once they’re on the couch she wraps around him again, curling into his side and after a moment he allows his head to rest on hers. Then, he lets his eyes close.

When he opens them again, it’s dark outside. Eva is gone from his side, but one of Eskild’s fluffy blankets is wrapped around him. He feels groggy, like he took a nap that lasted just a little bit too long or a little bit too short, which is probably exactly what happened.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Eva’s voice is soft.

He looks up at her, leaning against the doorway. “Hey.”

“I made food. You feeling up to that?”

He considers for a moment before nodding.

“I’ll be right back,” she says, sounding relieved, before she disappears into the kitchen again. He hears the sound of her rumbling with pans and plates as he absentmindedly takes his phone out of his pocket and turns it over in his hands, just to have something to do. When Eva comes back, she’s carrying a tray filled up with plates and glasses of water.

“I kind of just made do,” she says, “it’s chicken with lemon and rosemary. You didn’t have rosemary but I took some of Linn’s, she said it was okay. Mahdi would be proud of my improvisation technique, don’t you think?”

She doesn’t ask him what’s going on all evening, she just allows him to sit there and be quiet. She fills up the silence with stories about her job hunt (“Honestly, it’s such bullshit. To get hired, you need two years of experience but to get experience, you need to get hired. How the fuck am I supposed to save the world like this?”) and recounts Magnus’ attempt at finding someone to hook up with last night.

The doorbell rings again and Isak winces at the loud noise.

“That’s probably Jonas,” Eva says as she gets up. “I’ll go get it, okay?”

She lingers in the hallway, supposedly to open the door for Jonas, but Isak thinks she wants to talk to him quietly before they come back in. His suspicions are correct, he realises, when they enter and Jonas’ eyes shoot towards him immediately, a little worried, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Hey man,” he says, plopping down next to Isak on the couch.

“I was sitting there,” Eva complains lightly before spreading out on the other sofa.

They sit in the quiet for a while and Isak knows they’re waiting him out. He knows Jonas’ friendship techniques by heart by now, knows he’s one to let Isak tell things at his own pace, but Isak also feels like this may be one of those occasions when he won’t get away with ignoring it.

“I think — I’m pretty sure Even had an episode.”

He doesn’t think it’s what either of them had been expecting, but to their credit, they don’t flinch.

“I didn’t know you were talking again?” Jonas says, then.

“We hadn’t been for long, it— remember when I texted him?” he asks and Jonas nods. “He texted me back. After I’d sent him the second message, you know, the one saying to ignore it. I don’t even know… I mean, he just asked me how I was doing and it kind of went from there.”

Something hits him, then, that makes his stomach twist again. Is it possible that Even has been manic the entire time they were talking again? Is it possible that Isak was just too fucking thick to notice?

He hates how much sense it makes. Why else would Even have actually contacted him after those months of radio silence, after Even himself broke off whatever they were doing?

“So he had an episode?” Eva asks. “Like, a bipolar episode?”

“It’s— Well, I think he had a manic episode. Or a hypomanic one, I don’t—” suddenly all the information he’d looked up months ago seems to have disappeared from his mind completely. Everything feels all muddled up in there anyway. “It’s episodes, so it, like, alternates.”

There’s an ache in his chest at the thought of Even being depressed on his own. 

_ He’s not on his own _ , he reminds himself, but then some voice in the back of his mind adds,  _ but he’s not with me _ .  

He doesn’t know what to do. There’s something crawling underneath his skin, like he wants to do  _ something  _ but there’s nothing he actually can do so it just sits there, making him feel uncomfortable in his own body.

“How do you know? About the episode, I mean,” Jonas asks then, and Isak is pulled back to the living room of the kollektiv. “Did he tell you?”

Isak huffs out a humourless laugh.

“No. He— he flew here. From New York. Just, decided to do it last night,” he says and the guilt hits him again. “I think he did it because I said I missed him, yesterday. I woke up to these messages saying he was catching a plane and I thought he was— fuck, I thought he was kidding, you know? But then I tried calling, just to be sure, but I couldn’t reach him. His phone was disconnected and I got worried.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“So what happened?” 

“He— I called Sana before he got to me and she sent her brother and their group to come pick him up.”

“So he’s with his friends now?”

“Yeah, I think… Mikael said his parents are out of town? So he said he’d contact them and take care of Even for now. They’ve done this before, apparently.”

“I mean, they’ve been his friends for a while, right? They probably know what to do,” Jonas says. “Good to hear that he has them around.”

“I just— I don’t understand how I couldn’t have noticed,” Isak mutters and the more he thinks about it, the more he realises he should have. He should have registered something was up what with how little Even was sleeping, with the spurts of creativity and energy that Even actually kept  _ telling  _ him about. Was he so fucking wrapped up in his own mind that he couldn’t even see that?

He sees Eva and Jonas exchange quick glances. He’s always been kind of jealous of the way they communicate easily and quickly like that, the way they can read each other with just a look. It’s something he longs for. 

(Something he thinks he got a glimpse of for a little bit.)

“But Isak… He was on the other side of the world,” Eva says then, carefully. “I get that you feel like you should have noticed but like, no one would expect you to. You hadn’t talked to him in months, before that, right? It’s not your responsibility.”

“Eva’s right, man. And it’s not your fault that he came here. I know you like to take the blame but it’s not… It’s not a  _ take the blame  _ kind of situation. Shit just happens.”

And he knows that, he  _ knows _ . It isn’t his responsibility to take care of Even, and it isn’t his responsibility to know what’s going on. But his mind keeps thinking of the parallel universes where he does know. Where he is with Even right now instead of here with his friends. He thinks about _our universe doesn't become less important just because there are others out there._ And he can’t help but feel like he failed this Even anyway. Because for all that he believes that there are infinite universes that play out an infinite amount of options, he so deeply wants this to be one of the ones where they make it. 

This should be one of the ones where they make it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for reading <33
> 
> next chapter: hope (really!) 
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/jostvns) or [tumblr](http://minjard.tumblr.com)


	10. ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next couple of days are spent in and out of a sort of daze. Isak wakes up thinking about Even and goes to sleep thinking about Even, but no matter how many times he checks his phone, there’s no news from that front. He probably shouldn’t be surprised but it’s worrying nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a nice one to edit. i think you'll like it. 
> 
> all of the comments on the past couple of chapters (and every chapter, actually) have been so incredibly wonderful and heartwarming, they really really make my day, so thank you so much for that <3 
> 
> julosia hmu to talk about how we're gonna handle movie afternoon/night/morning tomorrow i love u both for putting up with my romcom moods

The next couple of days are spent in and out of a sort of daze. Isak wakes up thinking about Even and goes to sleep thinking about Even, but no matter how many times he checks his phone, there’s no news from that front. He probably shouldn’t be surprised but it’s worrying nonetheless.

The guilt softens a little, after so many conversations with Magnus and Jonas and Eskild about how he can’t _reasonably_ be held responsible for any of this.

The feeling of loss he’s gotten so familiar with, doesn’t.

He wants to be angry with himself for starting to hope again but there’s no room for that too.

It’s just that the more he’s come to think of it, the more he realises how fucking desperate he’s been for that second chance because he thought, he really, really thought that this time they could get it right. He must’ve been thinking about it subconsciously but this newly established, rekindled contact felt like a sign, like an _in_ , and this time Isak wasn’t going to let it go. This time he was going to fight.

Now, he’s unsure.

Because what are the chances Even would have responded to his text had he not been manic? What are the chances of Even reaching out otherwise? Maybe it was just a thing that happened because Isak _happened_ to get drunk at the wrong time and in the wrong place and if he hadn’t nothing would have changed. He wants to have more faith but his doubts and anxieties are playing tricks on his mind.

And now he’s just left with this feeling that this was really it. All along he had this feeling that they might work it out and now it’s just gone and it’s leaving this big, gaping hole in Isak’s chest that feels like it’s never going to be filled up again. It’s different from the earlier stuff, because on some level, he must have still been hoping at those times.

Hoping that something in line with one of Even’s favourite romantic movie scenes would happen where they would come together again because it was just _meant to be_ and when the fuck did he, Isak Valtersen, self proclaimed science nerd, start believing in _meant to be_? But if there’s anyone he’d believe in _meant to be_ for, it’d be Even. If only to appease the hopeful sparkle in his eyes every time the phrase was mentioned in one of said romantic movies.

—

He counts the days of silence in his mind.

On day one, he forces himself to go to work but leaves early because he gets nauseous every time he looks at the door. When he gets home in the early afternoon, Eskild is still there, about to leave for work too but he calls in sick before Isak can tell him he doesn’t have to do that. They spend the rest of the day on the couch, watching some reality tv show that kind of helps Isak forget, for a little bit, what’s actually going on.

He falls asleep at some point and when he wakes up, Eskild is looking at him. There’s this strange mixture of fondness and sadness there and Isak thinks Eskild might reserve that look specifically for him, because he suddenly has a very clear memory (in between a ton of fuzzy ones) of exactly that look when he first met Eskild, drunk off his ass in a gay bar at two in the morning.

“I’m—” Eskild starts.

Isak averts his gaze, starts shaking his head. “You don’t need to—”

“I do, though. And you don’t need to forgive me but — I think it’s good for you to hear. I was wrong. I fucked up. Badly. And I’m really fucking sorry I did what I did because you’re right. I can’t tell you what’s best for you. I’m sorry I didn’t realise that earlier.”

Isak is quiet for a moment, but then he nods.

“Thanks. I know you were trying to look out for me.”

“I was,” Eskild replies, “but that doesn’t mean what I did was any more right. And you don’t need to pretend it’s all okay now. I made that choice and it was wrong. It’s not going to get deleted from history just because I realise that now.”

Isak looks at him for a long time, but he’s not sure what to say.

“We all have to take responsibility for our actions, kiddo. That doesn’t mean we don’t get to come back from them.”

Something pangs in Isak’s chest and he inhales sharply. When he hugs Eskild, a comfortable kind of warmth spreads through him and he thinks he feels a little more centered now.

 

On day two, Isak forgets to get coffee in the morning and Julian isn’t there, so he almost falls asleep leaning against the counter. Mahdi comes by the store to ask if he has a specific cooking book.

“I mean… No? Probably not? Or, definitely not,” Isak says, looking over his shoulder to the sad bookcase with the non-science books and wondering for a moment why Mahdi would come all the way over here on a weekday instead of just texting Isak asking if he can get the book on a discount, which is what all his other friends do.

“Right. That’s fine, I didn’t really need it anyway.” Mahdi shrugs. “Anyway, how are you?”

So yeah, Isak’s friends have taken it upon themselves to come check up on him and be completely unsubtle about it.

It’s also on day two that Isak seriously considers calling one of Even’s friends to ask how he’s doing. He thinks maybe it wouldn’t be so weird, seeing as Isak was the one that called _them_ in the first place. But then, what’s he going to say?

So he doesn’t call, and he doesn’t text Even, but he looks up bipolar disorder online and rereads all the stuff he researched the last time because at least now he feels like he’s channeling his disappointment in himself into something good, something more than just wallowing, because he thinks he maybe owes Even that.

While reading someone’s account of the way their depression feels on a forum, he can’t help but think of Even. He knows that Even is with people that know him and care about him and that can handle this situation, but despite everything, he wishes it was him being there with Even instead.

On day three, he can’t sleep.

He went to bed extra early, put his phone away half an hour ago, even let Eskild make him some weird kind of herbal tea that’s supposed to help you sleep (and he only had two cups of coffee that morning). He hasn’t gone for that meditation app that Noora recommended a while back yet, but that’s mainly because he feels that if he’s going to start meditating that should really be a last resort kind of situation.

He did all those things, all the things the stupid websites tell you and _still_ he’s lying here and his mind isn’t winding down. It’s been almost two hours and everything is dark except for his little alarm clock that just keeps on ticking the minutes away, and they’re going so, so slowly.

It’s 23:33 when Isak makes a grab for his phone because honestly, it’s been two hours now and if he’s going to be awake he at least wants to be able to distract himself. He’s not sure how long he’s been pretending to play a strategy game that’s just mostly clicking a lot of buttons and waiting for explosion and sparkle effects to happen to see whether you did well or not when a notification comes in. He almost flicks it away immediately when his heart stills in his chest.

Even.

For a moment he thinks he’s going to be too frozen by anxiety to look at it, too afraid of what it might say to open the message at all. Because sure, he’s been doing all this accepting lately, but seeing Even actually write the words to him, to tell him everything that happened was a mistake… He’s not entirely sure he’s ready for that.  

After a couple more seconds of waiting for his heart rate to go down, for his fingers to stop tingling, he realises there’s just no fucking way he’s going to be able to do anything ever again if he leaves that message unread for too long.

A deep breath.

 

 

> **Even:** Dear Isak,
> 
> Even though we’re closer together than we’ve been in months, I feel like we’re still oceans apart. I want to tell you so many things. I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I fucked up and did exactly what I’ve been afraid of other people doing to me. I tried to stay in control of the things I could and I only lost control instead. I was scared of hurting you. I was scared of losing you. In the end, I did both.
> 
> I know it doesn’t matter much now. I don’t even know if you’ve read it, but I’d been working on the project for months. I’d been wanting to show you forever. I guess you could say it’s a parallel universe. Another place, where we are together for eternity.
> 
> Love you, Even  

Isak’s throat feels all dry and scratchy and his eyes have a hard time focusing because he’s blinking so much. It feels a little like instead of his heart, there’s a hummingbird stuck in his chest. There’s a link to a document underneath.

He reads the message two more times before finally clicking on it, only to be faced with a stupid google screen asking him whether he really wants to proceed to the document using his outlook account (yes, he still has his outlook account from back in 2009, he’s just never been bothered to make the switch to gmail, fucking sue him) or if he wants to make a google account.

Angrily tapping the _skip this step_ button multiple times finally gets him to the document.

And it’s —

It’s a script.

He doesn’t immediately read on, taking a second to let it settle in that this is something special Even is giving him. Even, who puts all of his thoughts and all of his feelings into his work, is granting him the privilege of having this, of seeing this.

Isak stays awake the rest of the night reading what turns out to be a story about him and Even. It starts out in a bookstore and it ends on a starry night, and Isak isn’t a visual person but he can see the entire thing playing out right in front of him.

It’s exactly what Even said it was — a parallel universe where they’re together. It’s one where they don’t mess up, and they keep in touch, and they talk a lot and watch movies that Isak doesn’t know.

It takes his breath away.

It’s quiet, it’s so quiet, at times Even’s made notes about the kind of music he wants and other times there’s little notes that actually say _silence_ and Isak knows that he must have been thinking about the silence they were surrounded by those mornings and nights in bed, the only sounds being their own quiet words and the rustling of sheets.

> EVEN
> 
> The fame isn’t really real, you know? Walking around all those people out there, that doesn’t feel real. Being here, being with you. This feels real.
> 
> ISAK
> 
> Yeah?
> 
> EVEN
> 
> Yeah. And in the end...
> 
> (beat)
> 
> ... in the end, I’m just a boy, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love me.

When he finishes it at three in the morning, it feels like his hummingbird heart is physically _aching_ with how much he longs for this, for all of what Even has written down, for the little universe Even has created just for the two of them here. With his eyes closed it all feels right there, within reach.

— 

At some point, he must have fallen asleep, because when he opens his eyes again, the bright daylight is harshly hitting him and he realises once again that the orange blanket he hung in front of the window really doesn’t function as a proper curtain (then again, he likes to think of it as a pretty accurate metaphor of how Isak has trouble functioning as a proper human being with the ability to communicate his feelings and thoughts to other people so, there’s that).

He spends the day rereading the script and almost forgets he has a weekly catch-up session with his friends scheduled for that evening until Jonas calls him asking whether he wants to buy beer together before heading over there.

Isak accepts because he feels like bursting.

It’s like… throughout the past couple of months, he’s been so good about keeping it all in and not bothering his friends and it’s all culminating to this very moment, but when he sees Jonas waiting in front of the store, he can’t actually bring himself to say anything yet.

Jonas obviously notices something is up when Isak can’t fucking stop moving.

“Are you like… okay?” he asks, carefully, like he’s afraid to inquire in case Isak is going to explode.

“Fine,” Isak tells him brusquely and immediately wants to hit himself on the head because yeah, haha, the not being able to communicate his own feelings and thoughts to other people-thing should have been a joke but it’s actually so fucking real that it hurts.

“Okay,” Jonas mutters, stretching the first syllable for too many seconds to have it sound casual, handing over his ID to the girl behind the counter before she asks for it because that’s just the kind of guy he is.

When they arrive at the girls’ place, only Magnus is still missing, but the catch-up session is already in full swing. Isak isn’t actually sure why they call them catch-up sessions, seeing as they happen every week, but then he overhears Eva talking about the weird as fuck job interview she just had and he remembers that his friends all live intricate and fulfilling and eventful lives.

He’s sitting down in between Jonas and Noora on a couch and kind of falls in between conversations until—

“Okay, bro, you know I love you but if you can’t sit still for ten seconds I’m really going to need you to leave,” Mahdi tells him and Isak’s head shoots up at the reprimand.

Everyone has fallen silent.

What Isak wants to say is _sorry_ but what comes out is, “Even texted me again.”

More silence.

He digs his phone out of his pocket, hesitates for a second but then opens the message and hands it to Jonas, who reads quietly. He makes to hand it over to Eva but before she can take it, he shoots Isak a quick look, and Isak makes a _whatever_ movement with his hand. His phone passes through the room, everyone reading it in silence as Isak taps his fingers against his knee. Once the phone gets back to him he looks at the words on the screen again for just a moment, even though he knows them by heart. Then, he pockets the phone and looks across the room.

“And you haven’t… you haven’t responded yet?” Noora asks.

Isak shakes his head.

“But like, he was manic while contacting me before, so I can’t— He probably wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t been. And now he’s just feeling sorry for like, whatever, ‘dragging me into it’ but that… that doesn’t mean anything. He’s probably like, just saying this because he’s depressed right now but he doesn’t really… I can’t let him keep playing me, right?” _I can’t keep letting him break my heart, right?_ is what his mind makes of that but he feels like that would be a little too melodramatic. The words are an echo of both Jonas and Eskild’s, but honestly, his heart isn’t really in it. He’s trying to look at this rationally, but it’s really difficult to do when his heart is pulling a completely different string. “So I should just. Let it be. Like, obviously he’s not feeling well right now but that’s not a reason for me to come running. He has his friends and his family and… yeah.”

Silence again.

“Right.” Vilde says then, but she sounds uncertain. “I guess that sounds… sensible.”

“Jonas?”

“He can’t keep on leaving. That’s not fair to you. And like, you don’t owe him anything.” Jonas adds after a short silence and Chris nods, but no one sounds really convinced. The look on Eva’s face is almost pained.

“Right,” Isak echoes. “Sana?”

He notices Sana is just looking at him with this slight frown on her face, and he realises it might not really be fair of him to ask her to judge a person that she knows pretty well too, so he switches to the person sitting next to her.

“Chris?”

“Celebrities are always gonna disappoint,” she says, but even she can’t seem to bring herself to saying it with her usual spirit.

The quiet is deafening and then —

“What’s the link for?” Noora asks.

“Oh, it’s,” Isak swallows. “Well, it’s a script. For a movie about us. Where we’re like, together, and where shit didn’t get fucked up, so — yeah.” He shrugs.

“Oh.”

Silence again.

“So like… he wrote a movie about the two of you being happy?” Noora asks, blowing air into her cheeks and letting it escape slowly. “I mean that’s… Well. You shouldn’t let that influence what you’re doing with this so. Yeah, no, good decision,” she adds, nodding, but afterwards she exchanges a not-so-subtle glance with Eva that expresses a lot more doubt.

Isak nods even though none of this is really helping him feel any better, but before he can say anything else Magnus waltzes in.

“Everyone! I am here,” he announces happily. No one really reacts. It takes a moment before he takes note of the heavy atmosphere in the room, but then Magnus frowns, looking everyone over. “What’s going on?”

“We’re talking about how Isak is right to not go running back to Even,” Eva fills in carefully.

Magnus’ gaze slides over to Isak. “ _Hva faen_? You were talking again and you didn’t tell me?”

Isak sags against the back of the couch. “It wasn’t a big deal, we just got in touch again but like, it doesn’t matter. It didn’t mean anything.”

If he were a comic book character, Isak is pretty sure there would be a dozen question marks around Magnus’ head right now and his eyes would be popping out.

“He was manic, okay? While we got back in touch, I mean. So he decided to catch a plane here after I drunk texted him like a fucking idiot.” Magnus snorts at that but motions for Isak to continue. “But like, he was manic. So he got here and he was just— rambling about everything and his friends came and picked him up now they’re with him, I think, and then yesterday he sent me this message saying he’s sorry and everything.”

Nothing for a moment but then Magnus says, “I still don’t understand?”

“He was manic,” Isak repeats.

“Yeah, Isak, I can hear, you mentioned that,” Magnus says, rolling his eyes. “But like, what’s the problem? Why can’t you contact him?”

Isak stares at him for a moment, and it’s weird how Magnus can make him feel like there’s something obvious he’s missing even though Isak is fairly certain it’s supposed to be the other way around.

“He was manic while talking to me. So it wasn’t because he wanted to?” he kind of hates the way his voice makes that phrase into a question without him wanting to. “And then now he’s apologising and everything but it’s probably because he’s feeling down?”

Magnus fixes him with this unimpressed look that makes Isak feel embarrassed even though he’s still not entirely sure what’s going on, before looking around the room. At this point, he almost seems _amused_ by what Isak is saying, even though amusement is about the last thing Isak is feeling right now.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Magnus says and it sounds so _obvious_ , and he’s looking at the rest of their friends like they should all be backing him up but most of them just seem a little confused. “ _Wow_. Even isn’t — He isn’t braindead just because he’s having an episode? Sure, it’s gonna affect his behaviour and being manic might make him more impulsive, but you can’t just completely disregard everything he’s doing or saying if you haven’t even actually talked to him. You’re just sitting here, assuming all this stuff?” Magnus says, shaking his head. “You know where Even is right now?”

“At home?”

“No— yeah, okay, but in his head. Is he still down?”

Isak swallows. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Magnus asks, sitting down on the armrest of one of the couches. Isak shakes his head slowly. “Because you haven’t replied?” This time Isak nods, feeling more and more stupid by the second, even though Magnus doesn’t even sound _mad,_  he just sounds exasperated with Isak. “Right, of course you haven’t. Fuck me, dude but like, I thought reading all those books was supposed to make you smart. You ever think of actually asking _Even_ how he’s doing? Like, communicating and having a real conversation with him?”

Magnus grabs a hand of doritos from the bowl on the table and starts munching them, still slowly shaking his head, exchanging a look with Mahdi that’s clearly supposed to be a wordless _this guy, am I right?_

For the first time since he got Even’s message, maybe for the first time since he came home after that disastrous afternoon, something in Isak’s chest feels lighter and it’s like his brain needs a moment to catch up with what he’s already feeling, but when it gets there, it’s so _obvious_ that for all Magnus can ask idiotic questions and make inappropriate comments, he’s just… he’s completely right.

It’s what Even’s been saying all along, and it’s what Isak’s been repeating, and in the end that’s exactly what it all comes down to, isn’t it?

_Only you can feel what you feel._

He’s done having other people make his decisions for him. He’s done not feeling in control of his own choices.

He’s done fighting this feeling.

“Fuck,” he mutters, burying his face in his hands for a moment before looking up again at all the awaiting gazes around him. “I made a fucking mistake, didn’t I?”

“Thank you,” Magnus sighs, heaving up his hands like he’s ready to receive a round of applause.

Something itches underneath his skin. There’s this feeling that he can’t come to this realisation and just sit around here anymore, so he gets up and then doesn’t know where to go until he understands the only place that he needs to be right now, that the only thing that isn’t going to make his skin crawl, is being with Even.

“Okay,” Isak mutters, more to himself than anyone else. “I’m gonna like, go.”

And suddenly the entire group seems to start moving — Jonas is slapping him on the back and there’s _good luck_ ’s from people and he’s about to walk to the door when he realises he _doesn’t fucking know where Even lives_ . Sure, he’s been there, _once_ , but he wasn’t exactly paying attention that night. His stomach falls and he turns to Sana, but she’s already one step ahead of him (of course she is).

“I just texted Elias, he’ll get back to me with the address, so just, move, get to the tram and I’ll pass it on as soon as I get it.”

“Thank you,” Isak breathes and he’s owed Sana a lot over the years but he’s gonna have to give her a lot of biology books for free to even slightly make up for this one. She smiles at him, dimples and all, and he can’t help but smile back before she’s hitting him on the arm.

“Now get moving!”

He’s out of the door before he can hear everyone’s goodbyes, though Magnus’ “Go get our boy!” is clearly audible above everything else, followed by an “ouch” when someone (Jonas, most likely, he always has Isak’s back) punches Magnus in the arm and Isak thinks he hears a “fine, fine, _your_ boy” but he can’t confirm because there’s also the sound of the blood rushing in his ears that’s sort of overpowering everything.

As he makes his way outside and the April wind hits his face the itching underneath his skin changes to buzzing, not just anxious anymore but excited, more ready. His strides get steadier with every step he takes.

Most of all, probably, he feels relieved.

Relieved to have made a decision (a final one, this time) and one that settles quietly in a place near his heart and doesn’t make him feel like everything is confusing and horrible and scary anymore. He’s going to Even and no matter what happens he’s going to fight for what he wants. And even if it all goes wrong at least he’ll have tried, and it will have been _his_ choice.

Waiting at the tram stop, he gets a message from Sana with Even’s address and a “don’t fuck this up” attached, which makes Isak smile as he lets out a shaky breath and opens Google Maps to find the fastest way to Even’s apartment.

It doesn’t take very long in the end, but all the way, Isak is feeling antsy. The first feeling of relief passes annoyingly fast and makes place for a little more nerves again. He knows this is just anxiety playing with him, anxiety making him doubt all his intentions, he knows all of this rationally and still the thoughts find their way into his head and heart, because what if Even doesn’t really want to see him at all?

It’s a sign of how desperate he is that he opens the message again and rereads it for the nth time, and he wonders if he’s been reading between the lines too much, if Even really was just apologising and trying to close off this chapter of his life.

Usually, it’s Jonas’ voice standing by him in moments like these, but this times he hears Magnus’ words echoing back to him (who’d have ever thought?)

He shouldn’t be making Even’s decisions for him. And isn’t that what Even said too? That everything got fucked up in the end because he succumbed to this idea that he could figure out what was better for Isak better than Isak himself could?

Then there’s other thoughts coming in too. What if there are other people already there? Even’s friends? Maybe his parents have come back early from their trip to be here with him? Will they let Isak in if he asks? Will they even know who he is?

When he gets to Even’s apartment building, he hesitates. His heart is doing that thing again where it’s beating high up in his throat instead of simply in his chest where it belongs. His palms are sweaty and it feels like he’s sort of trembling, but when he checks his hands are still. The steadiness he felt before, however, is gone.

In the end, he doesn’t have to ring the bell to be let into the building because a woman comes out of it right as Isak walks towards the door and he’s able to slip in. It feels a little bit like a deja vu, walking up these stairs again, only this time he’s not soaked and Even isn’t with him, making jokes that shouldn’t be that funny but make Isak laugh anyway.

He knows where the spare key is because Even pointed it out to him last time, but he knocks on the door anyway because in the end Even should be the one saying whether he wants Isak in his space or not.

Nothing happens.

Isak counts down a minute in his head before knocking again, more anxious this time.

More nothing.

Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe he shouldn’t be asking Even to do anything right now, especially not for him, maybe this is overwhelming and Isak should just leave and text him instead.

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He kind of wants to leave and then he also kind of doesn’t, because he came over here and he’s _ready_ now, despite all the anxiety he finally feels ready, and maybe it’s really unfair to ask Even to be ready at the same moment but he wants to at least let Even _know_.

The sound of the lock unlatching catches Isak’s attention and his adrenaline spikes but at the same time he’s holding his breath, and then the door opens and it feels a bit like a punch in the chest to see the person on the other side but in the best way possible.

Even is all bunched up, wearing a warm sweater and sweatpants, hat of the hoodie obscuring most of his hair from view. The next thing Isak really notices is how tired Even’s eyes look. It’s such a stark contrast from the light Isak has been seeing in his dreams the past couple of months that it almost physically pains him to see them washed out and weary, to take in the hunch in Even’s shoulders and the dryness of his lips.

But he’s here and he’s shivering in the doorway, and the moment their eyes meet something shifts in Isak’s chest. He thinks he should probably be saying something right now, explaining why he’s here in this moment, but he doesn’t know if he can find the right words. He doesn’t know if he can find any words at all.

It doesn’t really matter, he thinks.

What matters is this: Even’s trembling hands. The way he licks his lips. The way he opens his mouth as if he is about to say something, but no sound comes out.

What matters is this: Isak stepping forward and doing the only thing that seems right in this moment, the only thing he feels he _can_ do. His arms come up around Even’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

What matters is this: The shaky exhale of breath Even lets out and the moment Even’s arms wrap around Isak’s waist. The way he buries his head in the crook of Isak’s neck.

What matters is this: With Even’s warmth pressed against his chest, Isak finally feels like he can breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up: a long (long long) overdue talk, and kisses, and just general softness. 
> 
> come chat on [twitter](http://twitter.com/jostvns) or [tumblr](http://minjard.tumblr.com)!


	11. eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don’t really say anything as they untangle and move through the hallway. The apartment is dark, for the most part, and Even seems to falter for a moment, unsure of where to go from here, so Isak takes the lead and tugs him by the hand towards the bedroom, into the bed. It’s difficult to read Even when he’s all toned down like this, but Isak thinks he can see his shoulders sag a little with relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's slowly dawning on me that this is actually the penultimate chapter. the next one is going to be more of an epilogue, i guess? it's currently about half of a "normal" chapter, but i'm probably adding at least one more scene (i'm feeling very sad about leaving this fic so i'm prolonging actually writing the last sentences for a bit). it's going to be really really weird not having this fic around anymore. i had a nostalgic moment about it on twitter a couple of days ago but yeah, i've been working on it for quite a while and for a while it felt like i wasn't gonna ever finish it and now posting is almost done... (i told myself i wasn't gonna do an emo authors note this chapter and yet here we lowkey are. i'll stop now)
> 
> josie, you're gonna freakin blow the world away with your fic and you've worked on it so much and everyone is going to absolutely love it (@ everyone be on the lookout for josie/puddingandpie's big bang fic which will be posted later this week). julia thanks for always enabling my skam feelings bless u and ur pasta. 
> 
> [me: hasn't taken any science classes in 5 years  
> also me: tries to go into detail about science for this fic
> 
> @ scientists sorry if nothing i say makes sense]

They don’t really say anything as they untangle and move through the hallway. The apartment is dark, for the most part, and Even seems to falter for a moment, unsure of where to go from here, so Isak takes the lead and tugs him by the hand towards the bedroom, into the bed. It’s difficult to read Even when he’s all toned down like this, but Isak thinks he can see his shoulders sag a little with relief.

There’s a cup of tea next to the bed, still mostly full, but it looks cold. There’s movie posters on the walls and books stacked up on a shelf and a fake plant with a sticky note that says “at least this one won’t die xo mutta.” Isak spots a record player on the dresser and he makes a mental note to tell Even how pretentious that is later. There’s a pile of papers that kind of look like movie scripts on the desk.

The strange thing is that it looks so clearly like Even’s room, and yet it feels off. Isak thinks maybe it looks too tidy — unlived in. The only bit of the room that looks dishevelled is the bed, the covers rumpled.

Isak squeezes Even’s hand shortly before tugging him towards the bed. They curl up together — Even climbs into bed first while Isak takes off his coat and hangs it over the chair by the desk, only allowing himself a brief glance at the drawings taped to the wall above it.

Neither of them has said a word and in any other situation Isak’s awkwardness would be kicking in right now, but it doesn’t. The quiet doesn’t press down on him. It just seems to exist around the two of them.

So they just lie there for a while, and Isak can’t stop looking at Even. Their heads are on separate pillows and it’s kind of dark in the room, the only light coming from the small lamp on the bedside table behind Isak, but he can still make out all of Even’s features.

“It’s okay if you sleep,” Isak mumbles at some point. Even doesn’t reply, just keeps looking back at him, and Isak recognises the way Even seems afraid to even look away from him, like closing his eyes is going to make Isak disappear, so he nudges their noses together briefly before adding, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He holds Even’s gaze for a couple of moments and then Even lets out a long, slow breath before pressing his face a little closer into the pillow and closing his eyes.

After a while of lying there, Isak feels himself start to relax. His eyes start getting tired as well but he doesn’t want to close them yet, he can’t make himself look away from Even’s face, tracing every feature. He feels a little like he’s back in their little bubble and instead of being afraid of it bursting, he feels its strength, protecting them from the outside world.

For all that Even is boisterous and loud and expressive, he’s completely still when asleep, doesn’t move a finger as Isak watches and watches and watches, even though it doesn’t feel like he has to commit everything to memory anymore.

At some point, Even does turn around and Isak carefully pulls the duvet where it’s slipped away during the turn so it’s back to forming a little cocoon around Even. Then, he carefully scoots forward and curls into the sleeping boy next to him.

Finally, Isak falls asleep.

— 

When he wakes, there is light slipping in through the bottom of the curtains in Even’s room. Even is still asleep so Isak is careful when getting up from the bed to get his phone from his pocket. He’s extremely glad he made sure to put it on do not disturb before taking a step into Even’s apartment last night because there’s enough messages there to have woken them both multiple times throughout the night. Half of them are snapchat notifications in their group chat depicting a questionable game of charades and the entire group being entranced while working on a set of adult colouring books someone apparently had lying around, and the other half of them are messages from Magnus.

> **Magnus:** everything going okay???
> 
> dude please answer me i’m too invested in evak
> 
> no serr are you ok?
> 
> jonas is telling me to stop texting so i will but text me later pls xx
> 
> im with even
> 
> its ok

Isak lets the phone fall on his chest, screen down, toying with it a little. He’s just debating whether he should ask Magnus what to do, if there’s really anything he _can_ do for Even right now, but at that moment he hears the turning of the lock and panics. His first reaction is to check on Even, but the other boy seems way too fast asleep to take note of the stumbling in the hallway.

He listens for a moment, but there’s only footsteps (one pair, he thinks, so probably not Even’s parents coming home early from their trip?) and he knows he can’t stay hauled up in here because anyone finding him hiding in Even’s room would be more awkward than just going out there. At least this way they won’t wake Even.

_Fine._

He slowly makes his way out of the room, pulling the door to the bedroom mostly closed behind him and makes his way over to the kitchen, where he finds Mikael unpacking groceries, currently unloading a bunch of mandarins into a fruit bowl.

He looks up when he hears Isak approach, and while he seems a little taken aback to find Isak in front of him, he also doesn’t seem completely surprised altogether. He takes a couple of seconds looking at Isak before nodding, more to himself than to Isak.

“You want tea?”

Isak nods dumbly. Mikael makes his way to the kettle and fills it with water.

“Even’s asleep?”

Isak nods again, his voice a little croaky from sleep when he follows up with a quick, “Yeah.”

Mikael nods again and puts the kettle on. It’s quiet as they wait for the water to cook. At some point Mikael grabs one of the mandarins and offers it to Isak, who declines with a shake of his head. Mikael shrugs before peeling it himself. He seems very at home in this kitchen, which Isak knows isn’t that weird, but it adds to Isak’s feeling of being very out of place.

They end up sitting at the small table with their mugs of tea, and Isak is racking his brain for something to say that isn’t just a stream of apologies or excuses or explanations. He isn’t sure how much Mikael knows about what happened.

“When did you get here?” Mikael finally asks.

“Last night. He— He texted me the night before,” Isak says, which he realises does not necessarily speak in his favour, but at least it’s the truth.

Mikael nods as if he understands what that text must have entailed. He’s looking at Isak again, small frown on his face, and Isak wonders if he’s about to get a capital T Talk from Even’s best friend, but Mikael doesn’t ask any more questions. In fact, he doesn’t question Isak’s presence in Even’s apartment at all, just accepts him being here.

Isak appreciates it immensely. He’s not sure what he would’ve said had Mikael asked him about it.

“Listen. I love Even to death. Like, I’ll go through a million fires for him, I’ll read all his shitty manuscripts, I’ll listen to all his three AM ideas and pretend they’re wonderful, but sometimes he can be a real noble idiot,” Mikael says suddenly and Isak can’t help but let out a humourless huff. “Right? Like, I know he means well but come on, man. Stop making things so damn difficult for yourself. Anyway — I don’t know exactly what’s going on between the two of you because said resident noble idiot hasn’t wanted to talk to any of us but… I don’t know. I don’t want to be that character in the movie that comes in and tells the two romantic leads how to fix your shit, you know? You gotta do that yourself. Both of you.”

Their cups of tea are sitting untouched in front of them.

“That being said, I hope you two do actually fix your shit, because Even has been doing a lot of sad drawing and that’s just no good for group morale, ‘cause, you know, we all want him to be happy and when he’s sad we’re sad and it’s like, a whole _thing_.”

 _I want him to be happy too_ , Isak thinks, but doesn’t say out loud. He gets what Mikael is saying, though, he’s noticed it himself in the past — Even has this thing about him where his energy seems to spread through a room, which means that if he’s happy, the people around him are happier too. He can imagine it working the same the other way around.

They sit for a moment as Mikael drinks his tea, and Isak’s eye gets caught on the rack of spices on the counter.

“I’m not sure what to do now,” Isak admits then and the words just sort of work their way out of his mouth because that’s what’s been crawling around in his chest ever since he woke up. Part of him wants to feel embarrassed but he also realises there’s not much sense to that. “I don’t know how to help him.”

Mikael blows air into his cheeks and lets it out. “Yeah. It’s — well, there isn’t really anything you can do to fix this, you know? This is going to pass but right now it’s still here and that’s just,” he shrugs, “just the way it is. Best thing you can do is just be here, with him. Let him know that you’re here. And take things slow. When everything feels too much, just take it a day at a time, and when that’s too much, you take it an hour at a time. Take it a minute at a time, if you have to.”

 _A minute at a time_ , Isak thinks.

That sounds like something they can do.

Mikael stays for another fifteen minutes and Isak helps him unpack the groceries (which means he’s just handing Mikael stuff that Mikael puts away thoughtlessly in the various kitchen cupboards and drawers.

“We’ve been coming over every day for a bit, at least, but if you’re here today that’s good. Maybe we can add you to our group chat, and you can let us know when you’re here? So we don’t all show up at the same time, you know,” Mikael says, as he puts on his coat again.

“Sure, yeah,” Isak nods.

“Cool, I’ll do that then. And Isak?” Mikael halts in the doorway, turning around. “I think it’s good that you’re here.”

Isak can’t deny that that’s nice to hear from someone who knows Even as well as Mikael does.

— 

It’s noon when he gets back to the kitchen and finishes drinking his cold tea before washing and drying both his and Mikael’s cups. It’s weird being in this apartment that isn’t his, where everything is unfamiliar and where he doesn’t know any of the weird noises. There’s a sad succulent in the windowsill that he waters. When he finds nothing left to do or take care off, he makes his way back to the bedroom.

Even is still asleep in the same position when he gets there, but Isak doesn’t feel like going back and sitting somewhere alone, so he just makes a small round through Even’s bedroom. He gives himself a moment to look at the drawings on the wall, the art supplies neatly stacked away in a corner of the desk.

There’s a shelf of books, a lot of stuff Isak has never heard of, some movie anthologies, and of fucking course, the book on mining geology. Isak can’t help but roll his eyes when he picks it up. It looks completely unread, the receipt still in the front of the book where Isak put it at the time. He leafs through it for a moment before putting it back, and that’s when he notices what’s sitting next to it on the shelf.

The book on parallel universes.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so taken aback by it, but he _is_ , because he knows Even said the whole idea kind of freaked him out and yet it’s here, and unlike the mining geology book, this one looks very read.

The spine is cracked in multiple places, which, okay, makes Isak’s book-loving-heart wince, but that at least means Even opened it. When he picks it off the shelf, he sees there are multi coloured post its all throughout. Sometimes, there are small notes on them in Even’s scrawled handwriting — one small orange post stuck to a page with some kind of formula is just filled with various sizes of question marks. Isak huffs out a laugh.

Isak settles back on the bed with the book, back against the wall, and starts making his way through all of the notes.

He’s not sure how much time he spends doing that, but he knows he looks up immediately when there’s movement next to him, and he finds Even looking at him, eyes a little bleary from sleep, confused at first before seemingly realising what he’s seeing. Isak puts away the book and slides down so he’s lying on the same height as Even, even though Even is on his back and staring at the ceiling now.

“What are you doing?” Even asks after a short silence. His voice is all rough around the edges from sleep and disuse and it aches a little to hear him sound so defeated.

“Lying here with you,” Isak says lightly.

It’s quiet for another moment.

“I don’t want you to be here.”

Despite the short stab he feels, Isak forces himself to not look away and not flinch. Instead he takes a breath, forces his accelerating heart rate down. He can’t take this to heart right now. He needs to hold on to the belief that beneath these words, Even does actually want him here.

“Why?” Isak asks, voice cracking. He coughs.

There’s no reply for a long time, and Isak has almost given up on getting an actual answer when Even turns to him. “I don’t want you lying here, being sad, trying to take care of me. I don’t want you to be here because you feel bad for me.”

The words come out slowly, but carefully measured at the same time, like he’s rehearsed them.

“I’m not here because I feel bad for you,” Isak retorts, then tries to shake his head even though lying on a pillow makes that a more awkward move than it usually is. “Or — well, I’m not happy you’re sad, obviously, but that’s not… that’s not why I’m here. And I’m not sad. I’m just… here. With you. Because that’s where I want to be.”

Even doesn’t reply, but his eyes are back on Isak’s face, which Isak counts as a win. He seems to be searching for something, and Isak isn’t sure if it’s answers, or if it’s a lie, but he takes it, allows Even’s eyes to roam his face in silence.

“I just don’t think this is going to work.” It sounds like Even’s forcing the words out and Isak’s heart breaks a little. “I keep hurting you. I’m just gonna do it again.”

Isak licks his lips, scooting a little closer on the pillow so they’re completely level, then reaches out his hand and carefully strokes Even’s hair. He silently counts it as another win when Even doesn’t flinch away from the touch.

“Okay,” he says, and it’s barely louder than a whisper. “I don’t agree with that. And I think we should talk about this. Later.”

His fingers keep slowly combing through the tangles in Even’s hair, comforting motions.

“For now, we’re not gonna worry about all of that, we’re just gonna take this whole thing completely chill. Minute by minute. That’s all we have to worry about — the next minute. Sound good?”

Their gazes are fixed now and Isak wonders just how much feeling you can put in a look, because the one Even is giving him right now makes his heart still. It’s like Even is clinging onto him and Isak just wants to let him know that _yes, yes, yes, he is here and they’re here together now and he’s not leaving_. He thinks maybe, Even gets the message, because he nods, slowly.

“Good.”

He keeps up the steady motions of his fingers going through Even’s hair, in part because he thinks Even is enjoying it, slightly leaning into the touch, and partly because he likes knowing that Even is real and tangible right there beside him.

“What are we doing this minute?”

“Hm…” Isak hums, pretending to think. “This minute, we’ll cuddle.”

At that, the tiniest of smiles makes its way onto Even’s face, but it’s enough to make something warm and bright burst in Isak’s chest.

So for the next minute, they cuddle, it’s impossibly soft and entirely enough, and the feeling of being this close again heals some of the cracks in Isak’s heart.

— 

Over the next week, they settle into a new kind of routine. Isak knows that no matter how much he wants to stay with Even every day and just lie in bed with him ignoring the rest of the world, he actually has, like, responsibilities, and the glaring con of being your own employer is that you just don’t make money if you don’t enable that yourself (and it’s not like he can make Julian just run the shop by himself).

Luckily (and anxiety inducingly) Mikael came through and indeed added Isak to a group chat called _even support squad <3 <3 <3_. He’s been introduced to all of the boys again and Isak wonders if maybe Mikael instructed them all to be cool around him or if they all just go with the flow because he’s gotten no questions about why the fuck he’s suddenly part of this entanglement as well.

Together, though, they’ve come up with a schedule that allows Isak to go to work and go home to change and shower once in a while. Isak thought he’d feel bad leaving Even but he also knows that when he does, he leaves Even in extremely capable hands.

It happens that their visits overlap slightly, meaning Isak has the pleasure of meeting Mutta and Yousef, the only two of the group he hasn’t actually seen before, while they’re putting some tupperware in the freezer.

“Shebbakiya,” Mutta explains as he puts the last tub in there, “courtesy of Elias’ mum. Elias got all grumpy that he couldn’t come bring it over himself. You know Elias, right?”

“Yeah,” Isak says, a little taken aback by the other guy’s spontaneity. “Or, I know Sana, I’ve seen Elias a couple of times when we studied at her place.”

“That’s so funny to me still, that you and Sana studied together and you hung around her place and you and Even never met before because like, we were there _all the time._ I think Sana really didn’t like it for the most part — I mean, she liked Yousef here hanging around, obviously, but yeah,” Mutta continues, pointing at Yousef with the carrot he’s been munching on. “She once pretended she didn’t know how to peel carrots to just to get him to hang around.”

Isak can’t help but grin at that because he’s so far only heard this story from Sana’s side, which means he’s heard hardly anything about it, but this’ll be fun to tease her with.

“I think maybe Sana kept me away from you guys purposefully,” he quips and Mutta’s grin broadens. “Just so I didn’t get to hear these kinds of things. She doesn’t like things messing with her coolness.”

“Sana _is_ very cool,” Yousef adds. Mutta looks at Isak, eyebrows raised and looking unimpressed as he mouths _whipped_. Isak huffs out a laugh.

“She is,” Isak admits with a nod.

“Look at that, he laughs,” Mutta says, now looking proudly at Yousef. “Of course Even was gonna like that laugh. He’s so predictable. And it’s a really nice laugh.”

The both of them look at Isak for a couple of seconds, happily smiling and even though it feels a little weird to have this happen to him, Isak is noticing he also gets a lot out of their teasing and laughter. That despite the fact that Even is still not feeling great, they’re not worried. It reminds him of what Magnus said that while back, about how in Even’s movie the fact that the main character’s bipolar disorder is only part of her story, and despite all the progress he’s made with his mum sometimes it’s still difficult to see all those bits as just that, _bits_ , not the entire story, but these guys are right here and showing him how to do it. They’re not afraid of talking about Even being happy even though he’s not happy now.

“Oh, okay, I have one question,” Yousef asks before the two of them out the door. “Did he show you the script?”

Isak stills. He’s not sure what to think of the fact that they both apparently know about that, because Mutta turns around and looks at Isak expectantly. Doesn’t make much sense to lie about it, though.

“He did,” he says finally, then follows up with, “Did he show it to you, too?”

Mutta rolls his eyes. “Oh no, no one was allowed to even look at it. He’s been working on it for ages too, and it’s been so frustrating seeing him type away on his computer and we weren’t allowed to know _anything_ when usually he has no problem waking us up at five in the morning with some sleep drunk idea he had. At some point, right, Adam comes up to ask him something and Even just makes this hissy, like, angry cat noise. It got kinda ridiculous, but we figured it was like, something really special.”

—

They don’t talk when Even is like this. Not _really_ talk, that is. One night, when Even is using most of the duvet to hide himself from the world Isak sits down on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed and letting his head rest on the mattress behind him so he’s staring at the ceiling, and he just starts talking about being obsessed with dreams for a while when he was younger and about the time Jonas tried to teach him how to skateboard and he recycles an anecdote from Magnus’ classroom because he’s got enough of those to last a lifetime. At some point, he gets the parallel universes book from the night stand (he’s taken to just leafing through it while he’s here and looking at the small notes Even’s written again. He’s not entirely sure if it makes him happy or sad thinking about Even reading this on his own) and starts talking about Max Tegmark’s four levels of parallel universes.

“And then you have all these people complaining about how the multiverse theory shouldn’t be possible because of Occam’s razor but that’s just… that’s just kind of bullshit, right? I mean, Occam’s razor states that the simplest solution is probably the right one, like _when you hear hoofbeats, think of horses not zebras_.”

He isn’t even sure if Even’s asleep right now, he just feels like it’s good to let Even know that he’s here and there’s only so many stories about his childhood he can tell before they start becoming slightly tragic.

“And like, clearly the simplest solution to all those scientific problems no one can agree upon is that there are parallel universes in which different things are true. Tegmark says that we want the solution to our problems to be elegant and to explain his different levels would be so much more complicated if you don’t think the multiverse theory is correct so he states: _Our judgment comes down to which we find more wasteful and inelegant: many worlds or many words._ Then blah blah blah, something about wave function collapse —”

“Blah blah blah?” Even’s hoarse voice interrupts him. “Good story, that.”

So, not asleep then.

“Excuse me?” Isak says after he’s taken half a second to gather himself. “I’m trying to tell you something really interesting and fascinating and you’re commenting on my storytelling skills? I’m not the one putting a rainbow of question marks around this page, you know.”

He half turns around to find Even looking at him and something in his eyes seems a little clearer than the last time Isak saw him. Just that little observation makes his heart jump.

Even hums. “Go on then.”

The words come out sort of slowly, but they’re there and Isak is relieved, he’s so relieved, because despite all Even’s friends being calm, it’s really really nice to see Even wake up a little in front of his own eyes.

“Thank you,” Isak says, turning back so he’s sitting with his back to the bed again, finding where he left off on the page. “So it’s this essay he wrote about why the people who think you can’t apply Occam’s razor to the multiverse theory are stupid and, like, all of that doesn’t even really matter but he he ends with this.” He scrapes his throat for dramatic effect, playing it up a little now that he knows Even is actually listening. “ _Perhaps we will gradually get used to the weird ways of our cosmos and find its strangeness to be part of its charm._ ”

“So…” Even says slowly after thinking that over for a moment. “The cosmos is strange and everyone should just be chill about that?”

“Well,” Isak corrects, “everyone should just be chill and believe in parallel universes.”

“Right.”

Isak sneaks another look behind him and when he turns there’s this tiny smile tugging at Even’s lips and Isak just— he can’t help himself, he _has_ to kiss that smile. So he leans over, awkwardly pressing his chest into the side of the bed but it’s worth it when Even tilts his face up to meet his lips.

It’s like taking a breath of fresh air.

—

> [even support squad <3<3<3]
> 
> **Mutta:** we went out and petted three dogs today!!
> 
> he also kept talking about isak so that’s a good sign
> 
> **Mikael:** u know isak is in this chat now right.
> 
> **Mutta:** yes??? so ????

—

It’s a Friday night, and Isak has skipped his weekly meet-up with his friends in favour of being with Even tonight. It wasn’t really planned, but he just felt restless at the thought of going home after work, like some pull in his stomach. There’s just something way more appealing about sitting with Even for the rest of the evening than joining his friends, _plus_ he thinks he’d just spend most of the time wanting to be with Even anyway ( _moping_ , is probably what Eskild would call it, even though Isak would disagree).

When he gets there, opening the door with the key he now feels okay with taking from its secret hiding place, he finds Even sitting on the couch with a plate of what looks like a cheese toastie, frowning at the tv. He looks up at the sound of Isak entering the room.

“You know Mikael and the rest of them filled your freezer with food, right?” Isak asks as he unwraps his scarf and hangs his coat on a chair.

“What are you doing here?” Even asks and it’s an echo of the words he muttered earlier this week but Isak’s heart jumps at the change in tone, pleasantly surprised instead of grave.

“Making sure you eat something substantial that isn’t toast, but I guess I’m already too late for that.”

“Well, someone once told me cheese and cardamom is some kind of magical combination and of course I just _had_ to try that out myself.”

“Sounds like a wise person,” Isak huffs as he plops down next to Even on the couch and leans in for a quick peck. Even happily concedes. “What are you watching?”

“I don’t actually know,” Even says slowly, looking back at the television, which is still playing something extremely dramatic, swelling orchestral music and all in the background as a man and a woman passionately reunite. Isak scrunches up his nose. “It’s a really horrible made-for-tv movie but it was kind of a trainwreck situation where I couldn’t look away anymore. So honestly, you kind of saved me.”

“You’re welcome,” Isak says as he picks up one of the cuts of cheese toastie. “Now please turn that off, it’s killing the mood. And my appetite.”

“John thought Helen was never gonna wake up from her coma! It’s their romantic reunion moment!” Even protests, even though Isak can see by the sparkle in his eye that means he’s just putting up a fight to mess with Isak.

“It’s disgusting,” Isak deadpans as he picks up the remote and promptly turns off the movie.

They eat for a bit and then Isak gets up to make another toastie for them to share, rolling his eyes at the sweaty cheese left outside of the fridge. When he gets back with the plate and toastie, Even has pulled up his long legs on the couch and is looking pensively at the black screen of the tv.

Isak takes a moment to observe. Even looks a little less tired than the last time Isak saw him again, bags under his eyes still there but a little less pronounced. His hair is freshly washed, all fluffy and it makes Isak wants to run his fingers through it. He looks very soft in his worn sweater and sweatpants and brightly coloured socks with giraffes on them. There’s more energy in the way he holds himself but there’s something different since Isak got back from the kitchen, like he’s sobered a little.

“One nutritious meal,” Isak presents, placing the plate on Even’s knees where it teeters for a moment before Even takes it from him. Isak takes half of the toast and curls himself into the other corner of the couch as he waits for Even to say something, but he doesn’t.

“What are you thinking about?”

Even meets his eyes before he says, “We should probably talk, right?”

_Oh._

So they’re doing this now.

He isn’t sure if it’s Even slightly nervous tone or just the fact that he has spent so much time worrying about all the ways this conversation could go already, but Isak feels strangely calm.

“Probably,” Isak concedes, taking a bite of his toastie. “We don’t have to now, though.”

“I want to. I just — I guess I don’t really know where to start,” Even starts, running a hand through his hair. Isak gets momentarily distracted by a lock falling in his face before he focuses again.

“I know you talked to Eskild,” he says, breaking the silence.

Even swallows heavily and nods. “Did he... tell you what we talked about?”

“You don’t have to pretend you did a lot of the talking during that conversation,” Isak snorts humourlessly. “But no, he didn’t, really. I mean, he talked about me not being able to look out for myself and I kinda— got angry, after he told me and we didn’t really go in depth about it again later. You can tell me, though, I won’t like, rage quit this conversation.”

“Are you and Eskild okay?” Even asks quietly.

“Yes,” Isak affirms with a steady nod. “He’s done his time, and we’re good now.”

Silence follows and Isak wants to tell Even to just eat the toastie at least, but he forces himself to shut up and let Even think instead.

“He told me a bit about how you met. I know you did, too, but he talked about how— how you were really lost. And that you’d been forced to deal with so much stuff that you shouldn’t have had to deal with at such a young age. And I _know_ you told me about this stuff too but it felt different coming from him, you know? Because you’ve known each other for so much longer. And he— he said you deserve to have people that stick around.”

Something twists in Isak’s stomach as he hears those words.

“You left anyway,” he says and hates the way that despite how level-headed he started out, his voice still cracks. “Why didn’t you just talk to _me_?”

Having Even meet his gaze feels a little like a punch to the gut because there’s so much turmoil behind those blue eyes and Isak can see the guilt building there and _fuck_.

“I thought that would be selfish. To have you talk me out of it. I felt like I’d hurt enough people, that enough people had gotten hurt in the process of me figuring myself out, and you didn’t deserve that.”

 _But I ended up hurt anyway,_ Isak thinks, but doesn’t say.

“And Eskild talked about your mum and I just thought of you taking care of her at fifteen and I didn’t want you to feel like you were gonna have to take care of me, too? I didn’t want you to end up hating me. And I know— I know stuff is different with your mum, now, but for some reason all the scenarios my head could come up with were scenarios where you ended up hurt or angry with me in some way and I…” Even shrugs weakly and he looks small, strangely so. For all his long limbs, he looks young and tired and all hunched shoulders and pained looks and Isak hates it. “I guess I thought that in the long run, just breaking things off early would hurt you less.”

This is such a different Even from the one the world gets to see when he gives interviews and speeches and smiles. He always seems so confident and at ease, talking about his life and dealing with his mental illness, like he’s got it all covered and Isak knows, he _knows_ that Even is just a person too, but somewhere he’d maybe still had this residue of the idea that that media image is the same as the person he knows.

This is a privilege, in a way. To get to see Even this vulnerable.

And, Isak think, he gets it. He gets the worrying and he gets the feeling of wanting to _protect_ , and thinking about it now he’s not sure he wouldn’t have done the same, had their roles been reversed.

“I should have talked to you. I should have just told you what happened instead of hiding away. It was selfish and not fair to you,” Even says when the silence lasts. “I’m sorry.”

“You should have talked to me,” Isak confirms. He takes a deep breath. “And I shouldn’t have let go as fast as I did.”

“Yeah, but if I’d just—”

“Don’t — let’s not do that thing where we try to one up each other on how bad we are at communicating, because I’m, like, the master of that so I’m definitely gonna win and I don’t want you to feel bad.”

Even huffs, rolling his eyes, but Isak can see he’s not entirely convinced. So Isak takes the plate with still untouched cheese toastie from Even’s lap and puts it on the side table next to him and scoots over.

They stay like that for a moment.

“I don’t know if I can handle getting my heart broken by you again,” Isak says, with a little huff, like it’s funny even though it’s not, because it’s the truth. “Not because of something stupid like that. I’m done being stupid about this. I just — I need to know you want to, too. I need to know you’re in and you’re with me.

“I am,” Even says quickly, and his eyes shoot to Isak’s. “I want to, I want to, fuck, I _have_ wanted to. I want to try again and I want to be better.”

“If we’re going to to do this, we _need_ to be better. We need to do that thing where we actually communicate about our feelings and insecurities and shit and don’t cut each other off when we get scared.”

Even nods and his eyes are roaming Isak’s face, like he’s still looking for a sign to prove the contrary. “I don’t want you to feel like—”

“Even—” Isak tries to interrupt, because he senses where this is going.

But Even soldiers on stubbornly, even though his eyes are everywhere but on Isak’s face. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I’d understand if you’d rather just… not. Everything’s been such a mess, and I know that that’s my fault so… I mean, we could even be friends, if that’s something you’d rather—”

Seeing the self-sabotage happen in front of his own eyes, it becomes even clearer to Isak how Even must have come to that decision all those months ago after his conversation with Eskild.

Part of him wants to retort with a _I don’t want to be your friend, I want to kiss your face_ , but Isak decides against it. Instead, he leans in a little closer, and where before Even’s eyes were roaming the room, they’re now glued to Isak’s.

“Even. I’m not here because I feel bad about what happened. And I’m not here out of some sense of guilt. I’m here because I want to be here. With you. Because I believe that we fit together and that we can make it work and because I think that’s worth trying again for, right?” He thinks he can see Even nod, so subtly it might be a subconscious reaction to Isak’s words. Isak breathes out a little shakily and he shoots off a little prayer to the stars that he can manage the next bit without fucking up. “In the end I’m just a boy, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love me.”

The least he can do is give Even his movie moment.

He can see the moment it happens: something shifts in Even’s gaze, the tension is released from his shoulders, and there’s this awe-struck look in his eyes, and Isak doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him like that before.

It gives him just that bit of confidence to scoot even closer and revel in the way Even automatically leans towards him, hitch in his breath, and say, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

It has the aspired effect of teasing a smile out of Even, right before he leans over to kiss Isak and it’s soft, but heat uncurls in Isak’s stomach anyway, spreading all the way through his chest until he feels pleasantly warm all over.

“You read the script,” Even murmurs against his lips when he pulls back for a moment, just enough so he can talk and still have their foreheads touching.

“Read it?” Isak scoffs (edit: tries to scoff, it’s really very difficult to do that when he’s smiling so much). “I memorised all my lines, ready to take on the role. Unless you had another actor in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe Leo—”

Isak shuts him up with a kiss, and then another, and then another, before he whispers, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

They stay close after that, breathing in each other’s air, and Isak feels flushed and hot all over, tingling wherever Even is touching him — his hands are slowly running across Isak’s back, curling into his nape, brushing through his hair, and Even is looking at him like, like he can’t quite believe Isak is real, like he can’t quite believe _this_ is real. Isak reaches up, thumb stroking along Even’s cheekbones, pressing down just a little more as if to tell Even _yes, yes this is real_.

“We’re really doing this?” Even asks, brushing their noses together, and he must know the answer to that question by now but Isak has absolutely no qualms about answering.

“ _Yes_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for reading <3 feel free to give me an update on the state of your heart 
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/valterzens) or [tumblr](http://minjard.tumblr.com)!


	12. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right now, Isak is sitting on Even’s kitchen counter while Even makes them french toast. It’s Saturday morning and he’s wearing a sweater that is technically his own, but smells of Even. He feels a sort of deja-vu, thinking about Even’s weekend at his place, sitting in a similar position. And it feels good, noticing that thinking about that doesn’t make him sad anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my. here we are. i'm sorry it took me so long, uni deadlines suddenly snuck up on me and i couldn't find the time to write the last things i wanted to write. and i didn't want to rush this (in part because i'm still a little in denial about this ending), i wanted to give this fic the ending it deserves and i hope i was able to do that. and woosh, what a ride it has been. this fic was my everest. it took me months and now we're here and it's so weird that it's going to be over. but it's been amazing, i've had such a good time writing it and then kind of re-living it while posting the chapters. all of you who've left comments: i'm so grateful to you. your kind words brought me so much joy and happiness and made me smile every time. thank you for sticking with me. <3 
> 
> as always, a thank you to josie and julia, my rocks. without being dramatic at all, i wouldn't have been able to do this without your support. i love you both.

Right now, Isak is sitting on Even’s kitchen counter while Even makes them french toast. It’s Saturday morning and he’s wearing a sweater that is technically his own, but smells of Even. He feels a sort of deja-vu, thinking about Even’s weekend at his place, sitting in a similar position. And it feels good, noticing that thinking about that doesn’t make him sad anymore.

They’ve tried to be smart about this whole thing, to make sure that they don’t spend every waking hour together, that Isak goes back to his own place every now and then and not just to get some clean clothes but also to spend time with his roommates. Even has been trying to get back into a kind of routine now that he’s slowly but surely feeling better, going to his therapist’s office weekly, getting back to work and seeing his friends and family.

Isak knows, rationally, that this is for the best, that they both need to have their own routines and not just get tangled up in each other.

Still, he gets impatient when he knows he’s not going to see Even for a while. And still, he worries. Some nights when he’s lying in his own bed, alone, thinking about how much more easily he falls asleep to the sound of Even’s steady breathing next to him, he can feel the anxieties make their way back to his brain.

It takes a lot, at moments like that, to shoot Even a quick _still awake?_ text instead of just lying there, wallowing in self-doubt and insecurity.

But Even’s reply will be almost instantaneous, and instead of texting he’ll call Isak back and there’s a relief that comes with hearing Even’s voice that immediately calms something in Isak down. Isak starts believing in _meant to be_ a little more every time Even seems to perfectly understand what he needs, whether it’s for Even to just _talk_ or whether it’s for them to listen to each other’s breathing for a bit so Isak can imagine they’re together, even if his bed feels traitorously cold. And then he believes a little more again every time Even is patience embodied, waiting as Isak struggles through tired explanations and sluggy thoughts.

“I struggle sleeping too sometimes,” Even admits one night. “These days, I mean.”

“You do?”

“I’ve gotten used to you in my bed. It feels lonely when you’re not here.”

“Your bed feels lonely?”

Even’s responding sigh was a mixture of exasperation and fondness and where Isak is lying, eyes closed, he imagined the eye roll that undoubtedly accompanied that sigh. It made his heart grow three sizes, filling up his whole chest with a pleasant kind of warmth.

And now, from his place on the counter, Isak watches. He watches because he can, because he doesn’t feel embarrassed about getting caught up in the way Even quietly mouths along to a song on the radio as flips the french toast with artistic precision (Isak knows _Even_ knows he’s being watched, and he’s putting on a show for Isak’s sake). He watches, he watches, he watches and then he reaches. Reaches for Even, hooking a finger in the sleeve of his t-shirt, brushing bare skin, just to get Even’s attention like he knows he will.

True to expectation, Even looks up, face breaking out into one of Isak’s favourite smiles (he can’t really pick — all of Even’s smiles are his favourites) as he tilts his head slightly, raising his eyebrows questioningly. In return, Isak merely shrugs, unable to keep a smile off his own face.

Even huffs, shaking his head and turning back to the stove. After a moment, he speaks up. “I have that interview today.”

“You do,” Isak acknowledges. Even had informed him last week after a slightly tense meeting with his agent that after what happened, it would probably be a good idea to get _some_ kind of story from his side out there. Apparently, even though Even didn’t even really put on a public display of any sort, gossip in Hollywood spreads like wildfire and failing to show up on as big of an opportunity as this would’ve been attracts attention.

Even had explained that he’d prefer to do some small interview with a magazine he trusts, rather than just put out a press release. And feels like maybe, this is also a way for Even to take back control, save his narrative from where it’d been shattered on the ground, for everyone to piece together whatever they wanted.

“I’m a little nervous.” Even says it with a huffed, like he’s trying to wave it off, like he’s trying to get Isak to say _well, that’s kind of stupid._

Instead, Isak snorts. “Fuck, I would be too.”

This time, when Even huffs out a involuntary laugh as he puts the last piece of french toast on a plate and turns off the stove, Isak knows it’s genuine. It doesn’t feel like quite enough, though.

“Hey,” he says, making Even look up from where he was fumbling.

Isak hops off the counter, Even following him with his eyes as he walks closer. He halts in front of Even, eyes fixed on each other.

They’re on even ground now.

Isak blindly reaches for Even’s hand, finds it, tangles their fingers together. As he lightly presses their foreheads together, Even’s eyes fall shut as he lets out a shaky breath.

“You’re allowed to be nervous. You’re even allowed to be scared,” Isak starts, voice just above a whisper. “But hey. You’re going to do this, and when you get out of there you’re going to come home. And I’m going to be here. And we don’t have to go out for the rest of the day, we can just stay here and lie in bed and make out.”

He feels Even’s hand squeeze his a little tighter. Squeezes back. When he lifts a hand to Even’s face, Even immediately leans into his touch.

“How does that sound?” Isak mumbles into the space between that. “Can we do that?”

Even nods.

“We can,” he whispers, before leaning in to reach Isak with a kiss.

—

“It’s my son, returned from war!” Eskild exclaims the minute Isak sets foot back in the kollektiv. It’s warm and loud inside already: Eskild insisted on the weekly dinner that week to be there so he would “maybe see a glimpse of his favourite grumpy gay for once.” Or something like that.  

Of course, Isak arrives fashionably late to the party he’s supposed to be hosting himself but in his defence, locking up the store took a bit longer, seeing as Even came to pick him up and spent 15 minutes trying to convince Isak to reenact their first meeting.  

Most of the group, including Eskild and Linn, are sitting on the floor around the coffee table painting Easter eggs which Isak feels like he should sigh over but they actually look really sweet all together like that. He has a hand wrapped tightly around Even’s and squeezes it quickly before letting go so they can take off their coats.

“You’re being —”

“Bitch, please,” Eva says and Isak can spot her rolling her eyes from where she’s lying with her head on Noora’s lap, sprawled out on the couch. She’s squinting at the egg she’s holding, turning it around to inspect her handywork. “You’ve been MIA for the past week, you’ve sent me _two_ texts in the past seven days and one of them was just a smiley. I expected better from you.”

“It’s important to keep your friends updated,” Vilde tells him from where she’s sitting on the floor, back resting against Noora’s legs.

This time around, he’s warned all of them up front that Even was coming along so everything goes over relatively smoothly, except for Magnus _insisting_ that Even be separated from Isak because he’d been saving the seat next to him so they could work on their budding friendship some more. When Isak starts protesting, Sana rolls her eyes and gets up from her seat on the couch so Isak can sit down next to Even instead, she herself finding a place by Chris instead.

At some point Eskild declares that he’s hungry, which kick starts everyone to unwrap the food they brought — mostly they’re excited to see what Mahdi decided to bring them tonight because most of the time the other contributions include things like store-bought pancakes, fish cakes, and microwaved brownies. Tonight he’s gone for some kind of fancy pasta salad with pesto, roasted asparagus, and string beans which Isak would’ve never thought to make (or eat) but finds out is actually really delicious.

It’s a really nice evening, and Isak can’t deny having been a little nervous bringing Even back to his friends seeing as the most they’d been hearing about Even the past couple of months was Isak’s complaining, but it’s good. They play charades again and Sana and Even turn out to be the perfect mix of competitive and unafraid to go all out, so they win (Isak and Eva don’t do so well, mostly because Eva keeps laughing at whatever she has to act out which in turn will make Isak laugh and yell out random words until their time is up).

Jonas goes for another rant about the way consumerism is killing art and instead of just nodding vaguely Even actually engages in the conversation. When Vilde starts asking about his movie, Even is happy to tell her all she wants to know.

And Isak feels so… so uncomplicatedly happy here, surrounded by some of his absolute favourite people in this world, and they’re all getting along and for the first time in months the heavy weight in the pit of his stomach is just gone and hanging around joy doesn’t make him feel sad anymore.

He worries for only a moment when at some point he can’t find Even and sees him with Eskild, apparently under the guise of Even helping Eskild to get some drinks for everyone, but they hang around the kitchen table for a very long time and they’re both wearing these serious expressions. Isak is just debating whether he should go over there and make sure it’s going alright when Even breaks into a smile, ducking his head, and it’s weird how that smile makes it both easier and harder for Isak to breathe.

“You got the guy, hm?” Eva says, nudging him with her elbow as she plops down next to him, blowing on her egg to dry the paint.

“Guess I did,” Isak nods.

“So you’re all good now? You’re gonna be together forever and ever while he makes movies about your love story and the two of you have loads of beautiful babies?”

“I feel like you need a sex ed talk do-over,” Isak deadpans.

“You can adopt beautiful babies, Isak!” Eva scoffs and Isak barely stops himself from rolling his eyes at her. “But seriously. Things are okay now?”

He catches Even’s gaze for a moment and they exchange a smile across the room. Isak turns back to Eva and nods.

“Yeah, I’m — I mean. Obviously we don’t know what’s gonna happen, because, you know, we can’t predict the future and there’s a million different ways this could play out but, yeah, we’re good now. We’re just… taking it minute by minute. I really— _really_ like him.”

“No kidding,” Eva snorts, causing Isak to elbow her in the side. “I’m really happy for you. Both of you. And also for Magnus. I don’t know what he’d have done if you hadn’t gotten back together.”

Dancing ensues at some point during the evening when Vilde hits play on her long (very, very long) playlist of happy tracks, and Isak delights in sitting with Jonas and Mahdi, watching Vilde convince the rest of the gang to get up and dance  — that is, until Even is suddenly standing next to Isak and pulling him up as _Fem fine frøkner_ comes on.

“Come on, this is _our song_!”

“We have _never_ listened to this song before!” Isak complains, but lets Even drag him to his feet anyway.

“It can be our song from now on!”

“This is _not_ going to be our song”

“Well, what  _is_ going to be our song then? NWA?” Even teases, pulling him in closer.

Isak just rolls his eyes.

To be completely honest, it's kind of worth it to have Even’s hands on his waist and to have Even’s eyes radiate happiness back at him. It’s even worth it to have Even twirl him around because it sparks that bright, crinkly eyed smile that Isak would burn down the earth for.

All in all, the evening leaves a fire simmering in his chest.

—

Isak never thought he would say this, but mornings are quickly becoming his favourite time of the day. And it’s not like he would ever admit it to Even, who loves teasing him for his grumpiness and one-word-replies, but there’s _something_ about them now.

Some mornings, he wakes up alone and he’ll still momentarily forget where he is (or who’s with him), until he hears Even stumbling in the kitchen or humming a song in the shower.

And some mornings, he wakes up to the sound of Even’s heartbeat, steady and rhythmic, clearly audible from where Isak is curled up on his boyfriend’s (his _boyfriend’s_ ) chest.

Even almost always wakes up before Isak does, but if there’s a risk he’ll wake up Isak by moving he’ll lie there for hours — that’s what Isak learned when he woke up early one morning, unable to go back to sleep but also unable to really move yet, and so they just lay there, Even softly stroking Isak’s back and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead every now and then.

And he’s still not used to this. Fingers trailing the bare skin on his back, the light scrape of nails moving from mole to mole waking him softly and slowly, together with the light coming in through the window. For years, Isak would struggle with sleep and equally struggle with waking up, always still feeling tired, but opening his sleepy eyes now and quickly meeting the blue of Even’s sends a thrill through his spine.  

“Halla,” Even whispers and Isak can hear the smile in his voice, can do nothing to stop a smile from spreading across his own face.

Waking up next to Even is easily one of the best things Isak has ever experienced in his life, definitely top 5 material, and he’d recommend it to anyone if it weren’t for the fact that he very much likes Even with _him_ in _his_ bed (or, technically Even’s bed, but like, don’t you gain at least some ownership over a bed if you’ve slept in it for five days in a row?). He very, very much likes Even’s hand going through his hair and Even shuffling closer to wrap an arm around Isak’s waist and he _immensely_ enjoys the feeling of Even’s lips pressed against his bare shoulder and his throat and his jaw.

That is, until Isak has enough of the lingering and intercepts the next kiss that was supposed to land on his cheek by turning his head just enough to meet Even’s lips, slotting their mouths together languidly as he turns on his side to lie more comfortably and close the space between them, chests pressed together. Isak wonders if Even can feel his heart hitting 150 beats per minute, but gets distracted from that thought by Even coaxing his mouth open and deepening their kiss.

At first, Isak only vaguely registers something annoying happening behind his head, but the second he hears it he can’t unhear it anymore and really, he just wants to keep kissing Even and forget about the stupid buzzing, but it’s incessant and _annoying_ and Isak has just convinced himself that it’s fine, the buzzing can get fucking lost because he’s not letting this moment go, when Even pulls away.

“Sounds like someone wants your attention,” he says, sounding out of breath.

Isak groans, whines almost when he says, “But I only want _your_ attention.”

“And you have it, if you remember to put your phone on _do not disturb_ before we go to sleep.”

As if to add to Even’s argument, the phone buzzes again and Isak takes a deep breath to stop himself from just tossing it out the window before rolling over and grabbing it from the night stand.

 _21 new messages_.

“What’s Magnus saying?” Even asks as he puts his head next to Isak’s on the pillow so he can read along.

Isak opens the notifications and feels his heart sink while reading the first messages because he should really, really know better by now than to open Magnus’ messages in Even’s vicinity — or, like, at all. The first couple are just pictures from last night, but scrolling past those Isak gets to the more recent messages and, well —

 

> [evak fanclub]
> 
> **magnus:**!!!!!
> 
> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> isak!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> isAK WHY ARENT YOU AWAKE
> 
> iSaK
> 
> LOOK AT WHAT YOUR MAN DID
> 
> _[magnus sent a link]_
> 
> **vilde:** Aw Isak!! That’s adorable!!
> 
> **magnus:** wait isak
> 
> diD YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS
> 
> tell even we need to talk
> 
> i’ll tell him myself too
> 
> while you’re at it can you also tell even i love him
> 
> i mean i’ll tell him myself too but like
> 
> he deserves to hear it multiple times
> 
> **eva:** why are you all being loud

“You have something to tell me?” Even asks, amused.

Isak rolls his eyes, ready to turn off his phone and get back to their very important business, but then Even nudges him.

“You should check out the link.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

So Isak sighs dramatically but still he opens the messages again and clicks the link, ignoring Magnus’ renewed energy when he notices Isak’s read his earlier exclamations. The link leads him to the interview Even did last week, and he gets stuck for a moment watching the pictures that go with it because Even looks way too good in that tight shirt, but then Even is nudging him again so _fine,_ he moves on.

The interview doesn’t include anything that Even hadn’t already told Isak himself after coming home, and Isak really doesn’t get why Even is looking at him with that little spark in his eyes, that smile on his face, so he keeps scrolling, brows a little furrowed as he tries to figure out what he’s supposed to be figuring out.

There are some questions about the episode but then the interview moves on, something about Even’s last screening, then something about his upcoming projects — and that’s when something catches Isak’s eye.

> **_You’ve been travelling a lot the past couple of months and you’ve been meeting with some big names, spending most of your time not in Norway. Any thoughts of permanently moving away to be closer to the heart of the industry?_ **
> 
> It was something to consider a while back, but honestly I don’t think moving away is going to happen right now. There’ve been some developments in my life recently that have really made me reconsider. I mean, I love being in Norway, it’s where I’ve spent most of my life and it’s where I feel good and comfortable and that’s really important to me. I guess I really feel like I need to follow my heart on this matter, and right now my heart is in Oslo. So that’s where I’ll be. Indefinitely.

Isak’s stomach swoops at that. Even had told him he was taking a break from all the movie stuff for at least a month to really get back on his feet and sort some stuff out in his head, and Isak had just assumed they’d talk more at some point and they would have, he knows they would have, but this…

_Indefinitely._

“What do you think about that?” Even asks, eyes roaming Isak’s face and there’s just a tiny bit of nerves hidden underneath that teasing.

And Isak — Isak allows himself a moment to imagine.

An indefinite amount of mornings like this and an indefinite amount of Even’s teasing and of walks through Oslo and of drawings left on the pillow next to his when Even has to leave for work early. An indefinite amount of Even’s kisses. It feels a little bit like Even is offering him infinity.

Isak puts his phone on silent and locks it carefully. He puts it back on the nightstand before moving in closer to Even. Instead of answering, he tangles his fingers in Even’s hair and presses their lips together, and he hopes that Even can feel every single bit of gratitude and happiness and _love_ that he is trying to get across, and he thinks maybe he does because Even lets out a soft noise before pulling Isak even closer still.

So for the next minute, they kiss (and maybe for the ones after that as well).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading <3 
> 
> come chat on [twitter](http://twitter.com/valterzens) or [tumblr](http://minjard.tumblr.com)!


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